


A Rich Man Indeed

by moonflowers



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Accepted Incest, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blow Jobs, Domestic, Durincest, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Kili you sweetheart, M/M, Manly Tears, Oh the guilt, Ori I love you, Past Thilbo if you squint, Rimming, There will be feelings, post book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowers/pseuds/moonflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been nearly four decades since the dwarves reclaimed Erebor. Fili is now King Under the Mountain, and rules alongside his brother/lover Kili. Though their relationship is accepted, the people believe their king should have an heir of his own blood to take the throne after him. Reluctantly, Fili begins the search for a woman to carry his child, unsure of the best way to break the news to his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was part way through writing a fic saved as 'Fili and Kili court each other and shit' and got excited and wrote this instead. It was a bit rushed, so please let me know if anything is glaringly unclear, and I'll sort that shit out. I have taken so many liberties with dwarf culture bahaa.

“You really should think about children, Fili.”

“Hmm?” Half distracted by the papers spread across his mother’s kitchen table, the King Under the Mountain didn’t take in her words at first. “What did you say?”

Dis sighed and came to stand behind her son, rubbing at the tightness in his shoulders with aching fingers. “I said that you should start thinking about children.”

Her words firmly caught his attention this time, and he openly laughed at how ridiculous they sounded to him. “I cannot think what you mean, mother. Me and my love are not destined for children, you know that.”

Though he couldn’t see her, Fili knew his mother well enough to know she would be rolling her eyes. “I am well aware of that thank you, my boy.”

“Then what are you getting at?”

She moved away to sit opposite her son, back straight despite her age, hands folded neatly on the tabletop. “You are the king of Erebor, Fili. That there is a king once more is a miracle in itself. Now the line of Durin has again claimed the throne, it must remain that way. You’ve had many years to establish your rule; now is the perfect time to take care of the future.”

“I wish you would speak plainly to me mother.” He pushed away the chart in front of him, belatedly realising the true reason for his mother’s invitation was not to assess the literary worth of some old documents she had.

“I know that you will never have children inside of your marriage with your chosen partner –“ he flinched at her choice of words; he and his one had not chosen one another, they were made for each other. It was a painful understatement “– but there are ways around this.”

Fili snorted disdainfully. “”Like what?”

“Fili please be serious.” She arched an eyebrow at him, a look of distaste that made her appear ever so like her brother, and her younger son. “I shall speak plainly, since you ask it. Take a mistress. It was a common thing in the old days, and still is in some places, I’d wager. I mean in the traditional sense of course – not for pleasure, that is.

“Mother – “

“Solely for the production of heirs, she need not interfere with your sacred partnership. It would be a position of honour for the lady; to serve her king, her people. And if successful, the kingship would stay within our line directly.” Her hands moved minutely where they lay, eager to take to their nervous habit of clutching the jewels at her throat. “What say you?”

For a long while, he was unable to look her in the face, his eyes instead tracing the pattern of her dress, silver thread on a rich blue. Royal blue. He rose sharply, the chair clattering to the floor. “I’ll speak to you later mother.”

“Fili –“ she half rose to intercept him.

“Later.”

He strode from the room, head up and shoulders squared, as he had schooled himself to do for decades. Ever the king, just as his uncle had taught him. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead as he made his way through the tunnels back to his rooms, and those he passed were wise enough to keep out of his way. Still shocked and confused, and more than a little angry with his mother, he wrenched open the door to his chamber.   
Kili was there, sprawled across the bed, bits of arrow flint and feathers for fletching littering the sheets. 

“Hello.” He greeted the other without looking up from his work. “What did mother want?”

As it often did, Fili felt his rage blur and soften when he heard the other’s voice; after all these years, his presence was still the perfect balm for his anger. “Nothing of importance, my love.” He stooped to press a brief greeting kiss to Kili’s lips. “Just to look at some old papers she found at the back of a cupboard.”

The younger rolled his eyes and flung the decorative arrowhead he had been shaping to the floor. “That sounds terribly boring.” He reached up to wrap a hand around Fili’s wrist and pull him down, his eyes as bright as they had ever been. “Come to bed?”

“For you, my love.”

“My king.”

~*~

Few of Erebor had been surprised when the brothers had made their attachment official, and undertaken the sacred bond. It was near three decades ago now, seven years after the dragon had met his end. They were known all through Middle-Earth; the golden king of the dwarves and his dark brother turned lover. Known and well respected by their own people and by others, for they had proven themselves many times over both on the battlefield and in political matters. Of course there were those who looked on them with distaste, for it was a love they did not understand, particularly in the world of men. But there were more than enough loyal to them and their family’s rule to defend the brothers, if needs be.

Thorin had ruled with strength and success for several years after the dwarves had regained Erebor, the great dragon dead and the Battle of the Five Armies won. But a hard life had taken its toll, and he had willingly passed the rule down to his eldest nephew a decade ago. He kept mainly to his rooms now, with his maps and memories, though Fili often called upon him for advice, and for the pleasure of his company.   
He had never married, nor fathered any children, and Fili had gladly accepted the role he had been raised for under the tutelage of his uncle, mother, and those loyal to them. The only unexpected thing about his ascension was the one he had brought with him to the throne as his ‘queen.’ (The last who had referred to Kili as such within earshot had been locked up for a week under royal orders.) The throne had seemed secure in the line of Durin for many years and the dwarves celebrated, until it was suddenly realised there could not possibly be any children from this union. As much as they respected and loved their king and his one, the line of Durin could not die out – their blood must remain on the throne. And desperate times called for the old traditions to be reawakened.

~*~

Fili woke in one of his favourite ways. The main feature being that Kili was still asleep, meaning the elder could look upon him without his incessant laughter, eye-rolling and reckless remarks. The second feature being that said dwarf was asleep half on top of him – their warm chests pressed together and limbs caught under the sheets – and he revelled in the closeness that came with feeling their breaths come as one. One. Fili still felt a rush of joy whenever he thought on it more than a moment. His bond with his brother had always been strong, even to dwarven standards. When the time came to admit it had grown to something more than that, neither was at ease to begin with. There had been months of hard kisses stolen behind closed doors or under the night sky, tainted with a great deal of shouting and misunderstandings. But it had passed as a cloud on a sunny mountainside.  
The traditional rooms of the king were deep within the mountain, but as both Fili and Kili took more enjoyment in the light and open air than their ancestors, they took a room at the mountain’s edge, where slits could be cut into the rock to form slim gaps the sunlight could slip through. Fili could feel it now; a warm slice across his shoulder, and lighting his love’s face. As beautiful as ever, though perhaps a little more lined than it once was, and his beard thicker. Not that he was one to talk – streaks of silver had begun to grow through his hair. Instead of laughing, as Fili was sure he would, Kili had kissed his brother’s temple, and told him he must be rich indeed, to have silver growing from his head. 

As if sensing the pleasant memory himself, Kili shifted against him and smiled without opening his eyes. “Good morning, dear one.”

Fili bent awkwardly to press a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning.”

Pleased with the tender gesture but not satisfied by it alone, Kili pulled himself further up and pressed their lips together; soft brushes that gave way to deep, languid kisses. Fili brought up one hand to loosely grasp the hair at the base of his brother’s neck, the other running gently up and down his back, coming to rest on his hip.

“A good morning indeed,” Fili repeated, breaking their kiss. “And what did I do to deserve such an attentive greeting?”

Kili snorted, and for a moment the elder saw a flash of his little brother again, troubled only with simple things such as learning his letters, or how to properly re-string his bow. “Nothing. Yet.” He smirked and the moment of innocence was lost. “I fully intend for you to earn it before you leave this bed.”

Fili laughed, full and unrestrained, something he could only seem to do in the presence of his brother these days. “Is that a challenge, brother?” They rarely called each other brother anymore; that role being secondary to their newer but equally strong bond. It was only behind closed doors that they slipped back into old habits.

“Why yes my king, I believe it was.”

“Then come here.” The words had barely left his lips before Fili pushed himself up, grabbing his brother and wrestling him down on to the bed, their positions switched so that he lay above the younger, holding him down.

“I could have you on your back, if I wanted.”

“I know. And do you want to?”

“No,” Kili replied simply, and put on a show of submitting, allowing his brother to hold his wrists and pepper his jaw and neck with kisses. He rolled his hips up to meet Fili’s, earning him a growl as the kisses became rougher, leaving little red marks along his collar bone. “Oh my. What would your subjects say if they could see the marks you leave on me?”

“Nothing much, I would imagine. Not after that little trick you pulled at Thorin’s crowning.” How long ago that seemed now...

“Oh please, everyone knew of the nature of our relationship already.”

“That may have been so, but I don’t think they required such a... vivid demonstration of our affection.”

“Stop your complaining of things long passed and kiss me again.”

“Only if you ask me in a more satisfactory manner.”

KIli pretended to be put out, but smirked as he spoke all the same. “Please, my king.”

He had never been able to resist when Kili asked him so nicely. It had got him into trouble more times than he could count in their youth. He leant down to kiss him once more, releasing the younger’s hands so he could reach below the sheets, teasing his hardness with soft touches. 

“Ugh.” It was Kili who broke the kiss this time, to moan at the feel of his lover’s hand. “I’m assuming you have something important and kingly to do today,” he ran his fingers hard up his brother’s back, “so I suggest you get on with it.”

The king laughed softly against the other’s cheek. “You know I can see right through you, brother. You don’t give a damn about what I must do today, you just want me to take you sooner rather than later.”

“Perhaps. Either way, you should do it.”

“Impatient,” Fili muttered as he moved down his love’s body, leaving an odd kiss on his chest, his hip bone, finally taking the younger into his mouth.

KIli hummed in pleasure as the other leisurely ran his tongue along his cock, pausing every now and then to leave a kiss instead. He knew Fili could never do this for another; never show this level of devotion, willingness to please, and he positively basked in it. Fili knew it also, and after the talk he’d had with his mother yesterday, the thought grew into a worry where there should never have been the need for one.   
Wanting to leave that unpleasant thought behind, he turned his attention fully back to KIli, taking him deep enough to feel him at the back of his throat, a feat which had taken many years of willing practice. Kili’s breath was coming faster, the grip he had on Fili’s shoulder tightening as he struggled not to arch into the other’s mouth. Fili gripped his hip hard to keep him down; moving his tongue in such a way he knew would bring KIli to completion. It did, and Kili came with a shout, Fili swallowing the evidence. He moved to kiss his lover, who lay back with a sated sigh and met the kiss. Not one to leave a task unfinished, he reached to take Fili into his hand, whispering truthful nonsense about his love for him as he stroked. The combination of his hard hands and soft words did their job, and Fili came soon after, a breathy kiss cutting off his brother’s words.  
They lay together for a while, both in comfortable silence and comfortable conversation. At times like this, it was easy to forget they were descendants of kings, and rulers themselves. They felt as they had decades ago – just two people whose souls were intertwined, their paths the same and their hearts firmly in the possession of the other. 

~*~

“May we have a moment of your time, my lord?” One of his advisors appeared in the doorway of the council chamber as Fili walked past on his way to the armoury. He could hear the mumblings and mutterings of those gathered within. 

“Of course,” he agreed, though not without the sense of foreboding that always accompanied spontaneous meetings with his advisors. 

They stilled when he entered, each stopping mid-sentence, before greeting him with deep nods and taking their seats around the large, carved table. This was unnerving in itself – they were usually full of laughter and stories of drink from the night before as he entered the room. Unsure just what he was about to be hit with, he nodded back to the table at large, sparing a small smile for Ori, who took the notes for council meetings. 

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

“It’s... It’s afternoon, my lord.” One offered somewhat uncertainly. Their hesitation made him nervous, so different it was to the vigour and well-meant banter his men often met him with. 

“Quite right. The morning seems to have escaped me.” He smiled a little at nothing in particular; just a memory of twisted sheets and morning sun. “What can I do for you, my good sirs?”

“My lord, I’m afraid it’s... a rather delicate matter,” began the head of the council, running his hand along a thick braid of his beard.

“I had guessed as much,” muttered the king under his breath. 

“It concerns the heir to the throne of our great city, my lord. Or lack thereof.” They all appeared ill at ease now; there was a great deal of tugging on beards and straightening of beads and buckles.

Fili let them stew in silence, glaring at the tabletop as if it were the cause of all his problems. “Have you been in contact with my mother of late?”

Nobody spoke up for several long moments, until the head of the council seemed to realise the question would not answer itself, and no one else present was willing to either. “Yes, my lord. I will not lie to you. Although you should know the matter had been on our minds long before your lady mother approached us.”

“...I see.”

Another uncomfortable silence. Or at least Fili assumed it was uncomfortable for the others present – his mind was too busy being half numbed in disbelief and half racing to find a way out of the matter entirely.

“And my uncle?”

“We have not yet spoken with him on the subject, my lord.”

“Of course.” Fili found it hard to forget his uncle did not hold as much influence as he once did. To Thorin’s nephews, he was just as strong and impenetrable as he always had been. “He did not have children, nor did he marry. I never noticed anyone broach the subject with him.” 

“The line was secure in you and your... Kili. Two strong boys would sire strong sons, Mahal willing. If you forgive my boldness in saying so my lord, it is clear that will no longer be happening.”

Fili was starting to get irritated: these matters should be the affairs of him and his brother, and no one else. “No, it would appear not.”

“But surely you see we cannot let the throne pass to another line so easily. My lord.”

“I see no problem with the rule passing to the sons of Dain. They are currently next in line, are they not?”

“Yes my lord, but there are some who would not wish their king to hand over his family’s throne so easily. To some it would seem an abandonment... A weakness.”

Fili tried to ignore how much that last remark rankled. “Are most of us not family as it is? I know for a fact I am closely related to at least four of you present in this room, and distantly to the rest.” He was turning to thin excuses, and he knew it.

“Forgive me lord, but I think you know that is far from the point.”

“Perhaps.” He knew this petulance didn’t become him, but he was determined not to let them win this. Dwarves were known for their stubbornness, and he was their ruler. 

“The line must be kept strong, my lord. Our blood runs deep as the very stone of this mountain. Things are forever changing in this world, and it brings some comfort to our people to have something stable, to keep the old ways alive. I, that is, we,” he gestured to the others around the table, “believe it would be in the best interests of our kingdom, perhaps even the future peace of our race, for you to produce an heir.”

“So what would you suggest?” He tried hard not to sneer at the head of the council, his grip on the table making his knuckles ache.

“That you find a respectable dwarf woman willing to carry your heir, my lord.”

“To take a mistress, you mean. To find some poor woman for the sole purpose of bearing me sons. To use her, to treat her as a mere vessel. No. I will not. It is outdated and unreasonable, for all parties involved.” He spoke softer then, almost too low to hear. “I will not betray him.”

He could almost feel the sigh of annoyance from the men of the council. “It was a common practice in the days of old. It serves a purpose.”

“That’s correct,” Ori spoke up, his love for history and dwarven lore momentarily overruling his loyalty to his friend. “It is perhaps less common for dwarves to take a lover for pleasure outside of their sacred bond than some other races, but it is perfectly within reason and expectation for a king or high-ranking dwarf to take a lover for the purpose of procreation. To secure their bloodline where their one cannot...” He faltered at the end of his sentence, realising his last comment may have caused the king a great deal more offence than he intended. The rest sensed it too – it was likely only Ori’s friendship and long service to the pair that spared him a drastic berating. Fili left them to tense silence for long moments, at a complete and utter loss as to what would be the correct thing to say. He had been so sure of the right thing to do at the start of his rule – ‘for the good of the kingdom’ was all one needed to say to sway him to their cause, after his family’s suffering for it. But this time...

“I’m going to see my uncle.” He swept from the room, glad he’d chosen to wear a cloak that day, because at least then he’d make a sufficiently dramatic exit. 

“My lord, the men floundered in his wake, “do you accept this course of action or not?”

“I am going to my uncle,” he repeated, and continued to leave the room in a manner that would make the aforementioned relative proud.


	2. Chapter 2

Fili’s head was a mess as he made his way deeper into the great tunnels and galleries of Erebor. This was a rare occurrence – he had found he’d taken to kingship very well, and was known for being practical and keeping a clear head amongst chaos. Kili was the reckless one. But now his thoughts were as a candle in a draught: first blown one way, then the other, flickering and inconstant.   
He did not much care for the heart of the mountain. The air was cool but still, undisturbed and ancient; like it had slept all these years as the rest of the world carried on. But it was where his uncle felt most at ease, with thick walls of stone all about him, as their ancestors had.   
He did not bother knocking on the great wooden door to Thorin’s rooms as it was already ajar, and Fili was one of the few his uncle would permit to enter without giving permission first. 

“Uncle?” He called to the empty study as he walked in. For a moment, the only reply was his own voice, echoing through the dim room. Though clean, and grand in its day, the chamber was disorganised; papers and volumes spread across tables, chairs, and in piles on the cold floor. Practical as he was, Fili was a little concerned for their condition, left in corners for mould and damp to eat away.

“In here, Fili,” came the answering call from his Uncle’s bedchamber, voice sure as it always had been, though his body was starting to fail. 

Fili did as he was bid, and entered the room. The ornate bed in the centre was unmade, large piles of blankets and furs simply pushed aside. He had never liked the living quarters deep within Erebor, hence his own choice of rooms towards the outside, but Thorin’s were merry enough. Though having a fire was not an option this far under the stone, there was an extravagant amount of candles lighting the room, lending their friendly orange glow to dark rock. It smelt of metal, and earth. Of fur blankets and old paper, and all things that reminded Fili of Thorin, of his fleeting visits when he and his brother were young, and their uncle was a mysterious figure from places unknown. 

“Good afternoon, Uncle.”

“And to you.” Thorin looked up from where he was seated at a small desk, bent over a single well-thumbed sheet of paper. His frame was thinner than it once was, though it appeared bulkier due to layers of rich and heavy clothing, still turned out to perfection. But this could not hide how his eyes were tired, his hair and beard nearly grey entirely, within the neatness of its braids. He offered a brief smile to his nephew, but it was gone as quick as it came. “I presume you wish to speak with me about this heir business.”

“Yes.” Fili was caught off guard, not expecting him to know anything of the matter. “But how did you –“

“I am not as decrepit as everyone seems to think me.” Thorin smiled again, this time more grimly. “It is true time has taken its toll, but I’m not completely useless yet. Perfectly able to keep up with all that goes on within our great realm, should I wish to.” 

“I do not doubt it, uncle.”

“I know you don’t, my boy.” He looked for a moment as though he wished to say something more on the subject, but nothing came. “But we are here to discuss your troubles, I believe, not mine.”

“Yes.” Fili fought hard to say what he wanted to in an appropriate manner, to remain a king, especially in front of his uncle, his mentor in nearly every aspect of his life. But when he spoke again, he sounded to himself like a small boy once more, looking to his guardian to solve his problems. “What should I do?” He sat heavily on the bed, and looked at the floor to avoid his uncle’s eyes. 

“I will tell you again the same thing I have been telling you since your preparation for the role of king began. Look at me, Fili.” He did so reluctantly, though he was surprised to see the look in Thorin’s eyes was soft, not harsh with disappointment, as he’d been expecting. “A king must always do as he sees right, and do right by his people. If there are no people –“

“There is no king.” He could have finished that sentence in his sleep.

“That is correct. So what do you believe is best for your people?”

Fili hesitated. It shamed him to admit it, but he realised then that he’d given very little thought to the people of Erebor in this matter. He had been swept away thinking only of himself, and his betrayal of Kili. Though his brother gave him strength, he was sometimes also his weakness, leaving him blind on matters which should be clear as the water of a mountain spring. “I – I don’t know. I know what most of them would wish of me, but as to whether that is the right course of action, in the end...” If his taking of a mistress somehow destroyed all there was between him and his brother, then he was unsure he would be able to go on living up to their expectations as king, without his one by his side.

“Then it would seem you have some thinking to do.” Thorin stretched and clenched his fingers. Fili knew the joints of his hands often troubled him, and they sometimes shook uncontrollably, though it was a matter they never spoke of. “Nobody can force you to take a woman, Fili. Perhaps not even yourself, in the end, since your appetites are so attuned to Kili.” He noticed the smirk in Thorin’s voice as he spoke that last comment, but decided to ignore it. “In all seriousness Fili, know that I will not make you take a lady. Your mother will not either, if I can help it. It is nobody’s decision but yours.”

“But I don’t –“

“True enough, there will be some who take offense if you don’t, and you may lose some support, despite your successes as a ruler so far.” Pride warmed his voice here, a rarely bestowed and always welcome circumstance. “Though there are many loyal to you, and loyalty being something we take pride in as dwarves, as with any men, some can be fickle when it comes to leadership if things aren’t going the way they want.” 

Fili thought back to the uneasy silences and fidgeting of his council men earlier on, and realised his uncle was dangerously close to the truth. He didn’t know if he could cope with a full scale uprising from the people under the mountain. “So... if I do go through with this?”

“If you do choose to do this, take care how you treat Kili through it all. He will stick by you, as far as I can tell after coming to know you both these past hundred years. But that doesn’t mean to say it will be easy, or that he will take it without a fight. Dwarves are possessive at the best of times, as I’m sure you know. Imagine it was the other way around, and it were him taking another.”

“He would not –“

“My point is,” Thorin cut across smoothly before Fili could get too agitated, “take care not to drive away someone you love. You can never know how long it will haunt you.” His voice grew quiet, and his gaze flicked to the paper on his desk.

Fili could guess to whom Thorin was referring; a bright set of eyes and a warm heart his uncle had never quite forgotten, though nothing had come of it, in the end. But after all this time... He got to his feet, and walked the short distance to where his uncle sat, still gazing at the parchment. Sure enough, it was a map. A skilful copy by the look of it, showing the journey they had taken together years ago now; Erebor tall and proud to the east, The Shire away to the west, close to the edges of the map. Not wanting to let Thorin know he had noticed, he knelt before him, as he done when he was a child. 

“So you think I should do it?”

Thorin closed his eyes for a long moment, before looking down at his nephew. “Honestly, yes. For the sake of your rule, and the wellbeing and trust of our people, I think you must. They will not forget.” 

His heart felt as heavy as the stone they inhabited. “Then I will do it, if this is your counsel. Though I do not do so lightly.”

A hand clasped his, fingers cold as the rings that decorated them. “Then good luck. But take my advice and tell Kili sooner rather than later. I would not see him hurt if it could be helped.” Fili bristled at that and made to retort, but Thorin continued before he had the chance. “Do not forget the promises you have made to each other, before, after, and including your vows. The time has come for you to break one of these promises, so it is essential all the others are stronger than ever.” 

~*~

After leaving his uncle, Fili wandered the halls of Erebor alone for some time. He guessed it must be close to nightfall by now. Since accepting the crown, he had always turned to Kili for counsel, or at least to run things by him to settle his mind, if it was not advice he sought so much as justification. He could not do so in this instance, and it pained him more than he cared to admit. He knew his brother would laugh at him for it, if the situation did not affect him also.   
He had decided what he must do. He must give his people the heir they craved. But how was he to tell Kili? He could barely confront the thought in his own head, never mind the words to break it to his dear one.   
His wanderings could not have been as random as he’d suspected – it wasn’t long before he ended up pacing in front of the council chamber, where he suspected the head would still be, up to his elbows in documents and bejewelled inkwells. There would be no going back once he’d informed his advisors. Unable to bear the tension he was building up around himself any longer, he swung open the door without knocking.  
The old dwarf looked up at the king’s entrance, wiping his ink-stained fingers on his tunic. If he was surprised he didn’t show it, instead stroking the thick grey hair of his neat beard as he nodded a greeting.

“My lord.”

Fili nodded sharply in return, forcing the words out before he could change his mind. “I will do it. You know of what I speak, so do not waste my time with empty questions. I will do it. I ask only this: tell only who you need to, I wish to keep this hidden for as long as possible, or at least until things are more certain.” He paused, unsure how to word the final part of his command. “And do not tell my brother. If you remember nothing else, remember that. He must hear it from me and no one else, do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord. I shall see to it.”

“Very well.” Unable to speak of it further, and unwilling to spend any more time in company than strictly necessary, he turned to leave. “Goodnight.” He didn’t wait for a reply. 

~*~

Although he had been plagued with thoughts of guilt concerning Kili all day, he wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms and breathe him in; forget the world around them, their ancestral home and its outdated traditions. He called out as he reached their shared rooms.

“Kili?” the main room was lit poorly, as was their bed chamber. But a faint glow was coming from under the washroom door. He frowned; it was unusual for Kili to bother himself with more preening than was strictly needed, unless his brother offered to help him with it. He suddenly became most willing indeed when Fili offered to braid his hair for him. 

“I’m in here!” Kili hollered in return, an invitation for Fili to enter. 

The door to the washroom seemed awfully far away. He felt it took an age to cross the room, to reach his love and give him the grim news he carried. How was he ever to find the words? In all his years as king, nothing had ever been this difficult. He would never again complain about hoards of goblins or warg-packs, after this. Steeling himself, he eased open the heavy door. 

He was met by a rush of steam, sweet-smelling and heady. Waving it out of his eyes, he saw Kili straighten up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, having just emptied a final bucket of hot water into the enormous stone basin set into the floor. They’d had it put in specially. Bofur had found this particularly amusing, if he remembered correctly. 

“I drew you a bath.”

“So I see.” He couldn’t help but smile as Kili set down the empty bucket and held out a hand. “And what did I do to deserve being spoilt so?” He crossed the room to take the hand offered him, noticing the purple flower petals scattered over the floor and in the water. He could smell their sweetness, and something else, heavier and a little sickly, perhaps a scented oil burning somewhere amongst the numerous candles. For a dwarf who sometimes forgot to eat breakfast unless prompted (a rare thing indeed) Kili could pay surprising attention to detail where it concerned his Fili.

Kili shrugged as he took his brother’s hand, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You seemed somewhat tense last night.” Fili was unnerved by this comment; he thought he’d hidden his anxiety with ease, but then, Kili knew him better than he knew himself. “Besides,” his gentle smile slipped into a smirk, “what excuse did I ever need to get your clothes off?”

Fili groaned as the other began to unlace and peel away his layers of fine clothing, flinging them away and kissing skin as it was revealed. If it was with pleasure or despair he wasn’t entirely sure. Kili must have taken it to be the former, as he redoubled his efforts and ran his tongue along Fili’s jaw, pressing a wet kiss just below his ear. The king held his lover closer, grasping him tightly in the vague hope that the strength of his grasp would somehow translate into how dear he was to him. The thought of the hurt on this wonderful man’s face when he told him what he had to do... he couldn’t tell him. Not tonight at least. The thought of one more night with Kili wrapped around him like ivy up a brick wall was far too tempting to ruin with this... this mess he was bringing into their lives. 

“Fili, I can think of far better ways for you to leave me breathless,” Kili grunted, struggling in the mercilessly tight hug his brother had him trapped in to prove his point. 

Fili grinned at him and loosed his grip. “That was a terrible play on words.” 

His grin was returned tenfold before Kili crushed their lips together, and they went through the awkward motions of trying to remove the rest of their clothing without breaking the kiss. This was achieved before long, despite the amount of times they nearly fell to the floor and the cursing that came with it, skin warm and damp with steam from the water and a film of sweat from the heat.   
Fili was soft as fired metal under his brother’s touch, and was soon manoeuvred so he was kneeling on the floor with Kili behind him, mouthing at his neck. Soft hands swept his hair aside, and something warm and sweet-smelling was dribbled along his shoulders and ran down his back. Kili began to rub the oil into his skin, deft fingers moving in circles to ease away the tension from his brother’s shoulders, fingertips drawing both in soft lines and firm swipes along the muscle. It didn’t take long for his hands to forget their initial agenda, and drifted instead to Fili’s front, tracing the hair of his chest and leaving streaks of oil over his stomach. If that wasn’t enough, the younger chose this moment to spill more warm oil down his brother’s chest, smearing it into what he’d already left behind. Fili was finding it increasingly hard to keep quiet. Though the polished stone walls were thick, he still never liked to take the chance a passerby would hear his pleasure. And, of course, Kili knew this.

“Let me hear you.” He spoke soft into his ear, beard tickling the sensitive skin. “You do not always have to the king you know. You are allowed to just be Fili. My Fili.”

As tempting as that sounded, Fili knew his brother, and would not give into his games so easily. Mahal knew the younger had won more than enough times in the past. “Perhaps later,” he all but purred, “first I would thank you for such a pleasant surprise.”

Before the younger had time to form an answer, Fili had dragged him to his feet and pushed him face-first against the smooth stone wall. Holding him there with his weight – though Kili hardly put up much of a struggle – he kissed his way down his back, slowly getting to his knees and gently biting the curve of his backside. It was about then that Kili realised what he was going to do.

“Fili. You don’t have to –“ the rest of his words were wiped clean from his head as said dwarf began to lick at him, tracing his tongue around his entrance. Kili had never been one to keep quiet during such activity, but Fili happened to know this was one of his most favoured pleasures, and the sounds and sighs it drew from his lips came thick, fast and desperate.   
During many years of storytelling around camp fires and at taverns, they had learnt this was not a common activity among their people, who tended to favour simplicity and vigour when it came to the bedroom. But it was by no means unheard of, and it was with great enthusiasm they had first given it a try, not long after they had been bonded. Of course, those early attempts were not nearly as pleasurable as they were now for either party. Now, Fili had Kili scraping his nails against the wall and trying desperately hard not to let his brother win, and arch back into his tongue. At a deviously slow lick from his love’s tongue, Kili gave in.

“Enough,” he growled and turned, pulling Fili up from his knees and crushing their bodies together, lips working furiously, each in their seeming never ending battle to make the other feel the most pleasure.   
Any sense of battle fell apart when Fili ran his hand across his own oily chest, and grasped both their erections in his hand. Their kisses came open mouthed and breathless, any semblance of rhythm lost as they shamelessly rutted against each other as they had in their youth, skin slick with oil and hands touching any part of the other they could reach. Fili came first, with a rough gasp of his brother’s name into his shoulder. A few thrusts more and Kili followed, with a single broken shout that no doubt alerted anyone close by their quarters to exactly what was going on inside. Fili swatted at his arm without much feeling behind it as they regained their breath.

“Come. Let us get into the water before my legs give out.”

Mercifully, the water was still warm. Fili would have felt bad if his love’s efforts had been wasted, but he had to admit it was more the feeling of the oil and bodily fluids washing away that gave him pleasure rather than the perfumed water itself.

“Thank you for tonight, my love.” He spoke softly as he lay back in the water, gently easing the few braids his brother wore from his hair so he could wash it. Kili was tracing patterns on his chest with wet fingers. 

“You are most welcome, my king,” he answered with a lazy wink and a smile. “And it’s not as though I receive nothing in return for my efforts.”

“That you don’t, you ruthless schemer.” He pulled Kili close as the latter laughed softly, and wished it was in fact his brother doing the real scheming, rather than himself.   
Tomorrow.   
He would tell him tomorrow, in the morning when things were bright and clear and renewed, and his head wasn’t heavy with his love’s touch and the scent of perfumed oil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There wasn't even meant to any sex in this chapter. Woops.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is part filler, part plot, but I hope still enjoyable. Next chapter, shit gets real.  
> Thanks to everybody still reading, and leaving comments/kudos/whatever, I really appreciate it :)

Over the next few days, the king spent a great deal of time in his own company. Kili had received a request from the master of arms to assist him in training new volunteers for the royal guard, to keep them in check and ensure everything was running smoothly. Or that’s what he thought at least: Kili had shouted back only the briefest of explanations as he’d left, and Fili was so busy worrying about everything else that he hadn’t been listening as well as he should. How he cursed his own distraction.  
Even now, he was jolted out of his thoughts by Gloin and his son, who were engaged in a heated discussion as they walked past where he sat, nodding briefly in greeting. Belatedly nodding in return, Fili leaned back against the wall from the stone bench on which he sat, wishing dearly that his brother were here with him. Though he dreaded the moment when he would have to seriously speak with Kili, it was somehow easier not to dwell on it when he was with him, the bright star of his brother keeping his dark thoughts at bay.

“Good morning, my lord.”

Fili tried to conceal his surprise as Ori appeared around the corner. It was fortunate indeed the walls of Erebor were secure; if anyone had the mind to do him harm, he would have been all too easy to sneak up on of late.

“Ori,” he quickly smoothed his face into a well-practised smile, “good morning.”

Ori smiled back at him, sincere as ever. “May I sit with you a while, my lord?”

“Of course.” Fili slid along the polished stone to make more room. Fili would have been comfortable for Ori and a select few others to call him by his given name rather than his title, but in the end tradition had won out, and it was now only Kili and Thorin who addressed him as such. “How are your brothers? I believe Nori has journeyed back to Ered Luin for a time?”

“Yes. Dori simultaneously worries for him and tries to hide it, though we both know he is more than capable of looking out for himself.” Ori rambled on for a little while about his brothers and their doings, and Fili found it genuinely pleasant to hear of other dwarves’ lives moving on steadily, despite his own personal turmoil. The brief respite was over however, with the next sentence that left Ori’s mouth. “What of your brother?”

Recovering quickly from his initial tension at the question, Fili leant back further again and let out a sigh. He needed to speak with someone, and his kindly friend would serve better than most. “I have not yet told him, if that is what you mean.” The obvious ‘I don’t know how to’ went unspoken.

“Oh.” Ori looked thoughtful for a moment, before seeming to decide on something, and grasped Fili’s shoulder firmly in comfort. “I can’t pretend to know how hard this will be for you – the both of you. But it is decided it must be done, for better or for worse. And, knowing you two as well as I claim to, I believe telling him now will be for the better, in the end. He won’t forsake you.”

Though surprised at Ori’s uncharacteristic boldness, Fili found his voice again quickly. “Thorin said much the same.”

“Yes, I expect he would have done. You will come through it, Fili. Your bond is too strong not to survive; we who know you best of all have faith in it. And so should you.” His hand fell back into his lap. “Please tell him. Soon.”

Fili wanted to be angry with him. To shout that he was king and he would do what he bloody well pleased, never mind the old ways and what they dictated. But he wasn’t angry, leastways not at Ori for pointing out the truth, ugly as it was. “I will.”

“Good. It would make my heart glad to see this put behind you.” Ori gave him another gentle smile, and stood to leave. “Oh, and the real reason I was looking for you to begin with: I wanted to remind you the men of Dale are due tomorrow, though I doubt you needed reminding.”

“Thank you, Ori.” To his dismay, Fili found that this time he did in fact need reminding; his fretting over his brother had pushed most rational thought out of his head. He was of Erebor, the king under the mountain, and it wouldn’t do to forget it. 

~*~

The men of Dale were early. Not so much so that the dwarves were unready for them, but enough to set them on edge, and give them the unsettling feeling they were trying to catch up with themselves. This was apparent in none more so than Kili.   
In any matter of diplomacy, he would remain mere inches away from Fili at all times, just behind his shoulder, scowl on his face to warn off any he judged to be a threat. Which turned out to be nearly everything. His hands would often stray to the hilt of the sword at his waist, or to grip his brother’s shoulder, a growl slipping from his throat if he took a dislike to the proceedings. This behaviour had earned him the nickname of ‘the dwarf-king’s hound’ among the men of Dale and to the south. (Fili rather liked this, though he would never tell Kili that.)   
There were many more nicknames the world of men bestowed upon the brothers, most a great deal more unflattering. A Gondorian who had taken too much ale had once referred to the line of Durin as ‘incestuous beasts.’ Within seconds, twenty of the finest warriors of Erebor had their weapons directed at his throat. After that, men took care not to say such things to their faces if it could be helped. But of course it carried on behind their backs, in times of unrest and disagreement, or just when ale flowed too freely. Though the glare of the younger did much to keep them in check. 

Thus a delegation of men from Dale never failed to make Kili that bit more aggravated, but their premature arrival had tipped the scales even further. All through the supposedly informal talks, Kili gripped the back of his brother’s chair so hard, Fili feared it would crack the stone. Ridiculous really, but it was easy to believe when coupled with the discomfort on his face. Fili would have taken the younger’s hand in his own, pressed a small kiss to his knuckles or stroked his wrist, if they had been meeting with their own race. Or even the elves; they did not see the relationship of the king and his brother as a thing unnatural, though Thorin would have berated him for showing such tenderness in front of them. Things were not helped by two young men of the Dale guard who kept smirking at them. Most of the lads who sneered were young, unfamiliar with the ways of dwarves in general, never mind the finer points regarding their laws of courtship and bonding.

With a meaningful look across the table, the king urged his head of council to conclude matters as swiftly as possible, knowing his brother would be less on his guard when they got to the food and drink part of the meetings. And perhaps the Dale men would be less hasty in their judgement once they’d sampled the ale of Erebor. The stern dwarf did as he was bid, declaring any remaining trivial points of trade could wait until tomorrow. Fili felt what he knew was meant to be a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder as he rose. Trying to hide the wince at the force behind it, he nodded to his brother in gratitude as they left to ready for the meal. 

~*~

Most of the food had been devoured, and had given way to heavy drinking. It was nice, Fili mused, to see the men of Dale and dwarves of Erebor talking to one another more freely; laughing and singing, and re-filling the cups of their neighbours. He wished Thorin would have come up to the hall for the occasion, but his pride wouldn’t let the men see him weakened. A small group had begun a drinking game not far from the high table where he sat. 

“Here’s hoping things don’t turn sour.” Kili said quietly from his seat next to him. Apparently, his thoughts had taken a similar turn, as he watched them pour mead freely and slap each other on the shoulder for their valiant efforts to consume it in one. 

“They will do, if you don’t stop looking at me in such a manner.” Fili was only half joking. They had to be more discreet than usual, as the Dale-men were known to be easily offended by the nature of their relationship. Despite it being widely known, they didn’t like to see the proof of it before their eyes. After the amount some of them had drunk, something as commonplace as catching a glimpse of the king lacing his fingers with his brother on the tabletop could trigger a brawl between the two races.

Kili groaned and knocked back the remainder of his drink, before refilling it from the large ale jug close by. “Why must we hide? They are in our realm, so should abide by our laws. And you’re the king. Surely that means they should leave us be.” He pouted in a way that suited him less and less as he grew older.

Fili laughed all the same, and patted his knee briefly under the table. “One day perhaps, brother.”

“Aye, when we’re so grey and stiff it won’t matter anymore.” He took another deep drink. 

“Don’t be so bleak, Kili. Besides,” he couldn’t resist the opportunity, “I think I saw a grey hair in your beard this morning.”

Kili blinked at him, before downing his ale (again) and cracked his scarred knuckles. “You asked for it.”

“Asked for what?”

An answer wasn’t necessary, because Kili chose that moment run his hand firmly up the elder’s thigh, though the sensation was muted through his rich clothing.

“No Kili, not here.” He looked under to the table, to where his brother’s hand was drawing closer between his legs. “Stop it.” He hissed through his teeth, and sincerely hoped nobody heard it. 

“Nobody can see. So there’s no problem, is there.”

“Kili, I swear to Mahal –“

“Excuse me, my lords.”

The brothers froze, and turned to look at the dwarf woman who had approached the high table. “I just wanted to congratulate you on such a fine evening of entertainment, my king.” She bowed deep, warmth behind her brown eyes.

“I – thank you.” Fili felt the younger’s hand whip away from his lap. “I am glad it was to your taste.”

“Very much so.” With a soft smile, the woman turned to head back to her own table. Fili knew his face must have been a picture, a suspicion confirmed when Kili caught sight of him and laughed loud and deep enough to distract the nearby drinkers from their revelry.   
His mirth didn’t last long.   
A slightly older dwarf woman with an immaculate copper-coloured beard had stepped before them. “Alin Blackstone, my lord.” She bowed. “My father offers you an invitation to our home when your grace sees fit, as a thank you for all you have done for our people.”

Kili’s face grew just as shocked as Fili’s. “Thank you indeed,” the king forced out along with a smile. “I shall set up a date when I am able.” Something was definitely off: never before had dwarf women approached him over such trivial matters, particularly during a feast, when there was much other entertainment available than to speak with their king. He tried to shake it off, and struck up a conversation with Kili about what was left to discuss with the Dale men tomorrow. Which worked for about five minutes, until they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. 

“My king?” A pretty young dwarf-maid with bright blonde hair and a beard just starting to grown in smiled down at him. 

“What can I do for you, miss?” He tried to offer her a smile, but...

“I wondered if I might refresh your drink.” She held up the stone jug of ale she was carrying.

“Of course,” he pushed both his and Kili’s empty goblets towards her. If this displeased her she didn’t show it, but filled them both, before smiling and dipping into a little bow. 

“Fili,” his brother said quietly once she’d left, “what is this?”

“I – I’m afraid I don’t know.” Except that he was starting to have a very good idea as to what was going on, and now was definitely not the moment for him to run his theory by Kili. He just hoped to Mahal that he was wrong, and arranged his face into a pleasant smile as an unusually tall dwarf woman complimented his beard.

~*~

“Brother, you have had too much to drink.” Fili tried to sound disapproving, but this was hard to do while he was smiling.

“I have had no such thing,” Kili grinned at him, face flushed. “Besides, I needed something to get me through the evening with those fools of Dale.”

“They are not fools,” said Fili through his laughter, “they are men.”

“You speak of things that are one and the same.”

“Hush, brother. It would not do if someone were to hear you speak such things.” Although he did in part agree, it would do them no good if the wrong person was to hear him say it. 

“We are in our private rooms. If someone were to hear me, it would be their own fault for wandering here where they are not wanted. Must I hold my tongue in private also?”

“Mahal save me you are being an arse tonight.”

“You would have me no other way.”

“True enough.”

They said nothing for a moment, just eyed each other across the room, both aware this could easily morph into an argument. Fili broke their stare in the end; wanting to be rid of all the uncomfortable finery he had worn for the occasion. He undid the silver clasp at his fur-lined cloak and draped it over a chair. Kili rolled his eyes.

“Always so careful.”

“Somebody’s got to be,” Fili replied, only half joking. When Kili didn’t answer, he took a different approach, keen to avoid falling out with him just yet. “You will not help me?” He gestured to his remaining extravagant armour he’d donned to demonstrate his strength to the Dale-men, in the hope his brother would assist him. 

“No.” Kili said simply, shucking his own more simple cloak and mail and purposefully dropping them to the floor before stretching back on the bed, propping himself on an elbow. “I would rather watch you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Fili slid the heavy rings from his fingers into the shallow silver dish he kept for the purpose, engraved by Kili as a gift long ago. They were followed by the wide band of engraved iron he wore as a crown, and the chain of silver and mithril he wore at his neck. Kili wore no such ornaments. Determined not to rise to the challenge his slightly drunk brother had set him, Fili unlaced and unbuckled as swiftly and precisely as he could, setting each item back in its proper place. Down to his undershirt and soft leather trousers, he lay next to Kili, leaning back on the headboard. 

“Satisfied?”

Not answering, Kili crawled over and pulled himself up to lie partly a top his brother, length of their bodies pressed together. 

Fili laughed at the lazy smile on his dear one’s face. “We are not as young as we once were. You should not purr and faun, and drape yourself over me like a kitten does its master.”

Smile all the wider, Kili began to nuzzle at Fili’s neck, gently scraping his fingers down his chest, mimicking a cat with its claws out. The elder laughed harder and swatted him away, the sight of the quite battle-hardened and mature dwarf his brother had become acting like the child he’d once been never failed to lighten his spirits. Instead of laughing with him, Kili drew back to look him in the eye, face still pink and ale on his breath. This was all the warning Fili got before his brother attacked him with his mouth, kissing him hard and messy, one hand gripping his hair and the other grasping him roughly through his trousers. Just as Fili got over the surprise and made to kiss him back, Kili drew sharply away and rolled onto his back. Noticing the scandalised look on his brother’s face, Kili snorted with laughter. 

“What? I have not seen that look on your face since I sucked your cock under the table during the feast on Thorin’s birthday.”

Fili cringed at the memory. “What was that for?”

“What was what for?”

“That kiss.” He cleared his throat. “You don’t kiss like that unless you want something.”

“To remind you who you belong to.”

Fili raised an eyebrow in question. “Pardon?”

“Also because I have not been able to kiss you all evening and it was testing my patience, but mainly the first one. The women of Erebor seemed very eager to entertain their king tonight.” Fili tensed, and prayed his movement escaped his brother’s attention. “It seemed that tonight they all suddenly noticed your handsome face. I cannot think what took them so long.” He grinned crookedly. “Silly girls that they are. They know they cannot have you. That you were claimed long ago by a love they cannot begin to understand.” He looked on Fili intently for a moment, and the king half expected his younger brother to fling himself at him again. Then Kili laughed softly and the spell was broken.  
“Although,” he continued with a smirk, “some of them weren’t half bad. I never noticed that cousin of Bofur’s had such a fine beard on her face. Almost as fine as yours.” He gave a playful tug at Fili’s facial hair.   
“And that Stonehammer girl,” he gave a low whistle. “The hills of her chest were so deep one could have mined in them.” Still not noticing how his brother was frozen and not joining with his laughter, he carried on.   
“And the shoulders on that young girl – you know, the one wearing all the emeralds – Mahal save me were they broad. Something to hold on to.”   
Why would he not stop?   
“I didn’t think much of that redhead though.” His brow creased in distaste. “She spent far too much time at our table. I do believe she had the balls to rest her hand on your elbow as she spoke. I don’t like it when just anyone touches you in such a familiar manner.” 

Fili sat in silence as Kili carried on and on, listing each of the women he’d noticed lavishing unnecessary attention on their king, their good points and flaws in manner and in body. They all ran together in a grotesque blur, and he couldn’t help but wonder which of these women his dear one mercilessly slated would be the one he’d take to his bed. The one with the big lips or the too-slim waist, the shrill voice or the sparse beard. (Fili was too busy trying not to snap to taunt his brother about the thinness of his own beard in his youth.) Which of these would he betray his dear one for? Which would be the one to carry the new heir of Durin because the king’s own love could not?

When Kili began to comment on the breathtaking curved hips (perfect for childbearing) of one of the older dwarven ladies, Fili couldn’t bear to listen to another word. He swung a leg over Kili to straddle him, lifting him so their chests pressed together and kissed him forcefully, beards scratching and teeth knocking in carelessness. He thrust his tongue into the other’s mouth in an attempt to drown out all thoughts of the women and which one he must take, the breaking of the promise between him and his love.   
He wanted it to be as it once was; the two of them absorbed in each other, just two boys in love and desperate for any chance to prove it. Kili didn’t question the sudden change of pace but took it as a challenge, kissing back just as hard, pushing his brother’s dominance as he always had. His chest rumbled with a deep growl, and Fili realised he didn’t want to think of his love as the boy he’d once been, but as he was now: his second in command, his great love, and the fiercest of allies he could ever have hoped for in all of Middle-earth.


	4. Chapter 4

Kili had already left when Fili woke. It used to be the other way around in their youth – Fili would rise early and keep watch while the younger slept on, taking his role of big brother ever seriously. But somewhere along the line things had reversed, and Kili had started to get up earlier, always busy, while Fili lay stretched out in bed long after the sun was up. There were days he was required to rise early, he was king after all, and there were many duties he could and would not want to shirk – but these were few and far between, in relatively peaceful times.   
He eased himself into a sitting position, wincing slightly at the familiar ache down his back and thighs. He ran his fingers gently along his neck, the tenderness of the skin proving his suspicions correct – Kili had marked him there again last night. It was something the other had always been fond of. But Fili supposed he had asked for it: in his desperation to drive all thoughts of women and betrayal from his mind, he had taken his brother hard last night, and as expected, Kili gave as good as he got. It was growling and biting and bruising, more of a wrestling match than making love. But when it was over, and Kili had pressed a small kiss to his forehead along with a whispered ‘I love you,’ there could be no doubt.   
It had taken Fili a long time to get to sleep after that. 

~*~

“They know.”

He was met with a silence thick as the stone walls of the council chamber they stood in. Ori looked distinctly uncomfortable. Eventually, the head of the council spoke. “We cannot think what you mean, my lord.”

Fili fought back the urge to shout, knowing that would only make it appear he lacked control, which was the opposite of what he needed right now. “The people of Erebor.” His voice still shook despite his efforts. “They know that I’m looking for – they know I plan to father an heir.”

“What makes you say that, my lord?”

“The line of women before my table last night!” He was shouting now, composure be damned, and in his fury he was the image of his uncle; a proud king under the mountain. “Do not take me for a fool, gentlemen. I know that one, or several of you, have spoken of this matter against my wishes.” He clenched his fists, attempting to reign in his anger, and lowered his voice. “It matters not which of you it was. Just know that I will not tolerate such blatant disregard for my orders again.”

The council men had the decency to look a little guilty, and some gave a slight bow in his direction. “Yes, my lord.”

“Very good.” Fili sighed and waved away their mumblings. “However, it has made me realise this is not something I can put off any longer.” No matter how much he wanted to. After last night, and the women making their intentions clear, he feared Kili would hear of his treachery from someone other than himself. “As word is spreading so fast, I wish to find a woman before it becomes beyond control. I’ve no doubt you all noticed which women in particular approached me last night. Although perhaps I shouldn’t, I trust you as my council to pick a select few of these women that you see as worthy for me to meet with. Privately of course, and as discreetly as possible, so I can make an informed choice on who it may be.” He sat heavily in the carved chair at the head of the table, in no mood for company. “Leave me now. Go.” He kept his eyes fixed on the table as the dwarven council shuffled from the room, great stone doors shutting behind them. How long he sat there in silence, head in his hands, he didn’t know. 

~*~

There was only one woman left for him to speak with, thank Mahal. The men of his council had decided on ten for him to meet, and he had spent the whole day in a little-used room not far from his chambers, waiting for each to enter and to judge if they should be the one to carry his child.  
Several of them would have been perfectly lovely under any other circumstance; but the entire situation disgusted him a little, and that was something he found hard to overlook. As lovely as a maid might be, it was hard to make small talk when he knew the purpose of their introduction was to get her with child. However, this idea didn’t seem to put off the women at all.   
He should have been expecting it really – if male dwarves were known for their bloody-mindedness and determination, it could be tripled for female dwarves. It was clear from the off some of them were there purely for the thrill of power, with the ambition of their son being the one on the throne of Erebor, to be mother to the future king under the mountain. The glory was more than enough incentive. Needless to say, he did not consider them further, but bid them a polite good day and showed them from the room.   
A couple of the ladies had a lust for gold rather than power, evident from the amount of times their eyes would flick to the rings on his fingers, or check the room for any particularly valuable artefacts. It was also assumed that the official mistress to the king would receive all manner of finery and riches to go with her title. True enough, but definitely a deterrent for Fili to consider those who made their desire for his wealth apparent.   
There was one lass with glossy black hair and a soft smile who as good as said she was there for the reason of bedding him. As if that wasn’t enough, there was a thinly veiled suggestion she would gladly welcome Kili between her sheets as well. It took all of Fili’s control to find a diplomatic way to turn her down rather than simply shoving her out of the door.

A firm knock at the door interrupted his despairing of the women of Erebor.

“Enter.” His voice was hoarse from the small talk and carefully polite conversation he’d made with women he didn’t know, and found he didn’t want to either. It pained him to think of his subjects thus, but...

“Good afternoon, my king.” The dwarf woman bowed respectfully before flashing him a small smile.

“Good afternoon, Miss Silverbrand.” He had ensured he’d known the name of each woman before she entered, out of respect and a duty to them. “Please, sit.”

“Thank you, lord.” She did so, with a rustle of heavy dress-fabric and a gentle clink of beads in her hair. Her beard was soft brown and neat, limbs strong and stout, and hands used to work. All in all, she was rather pretty. But Fili found it hard to look her in the eye – their colour was strikingly similar to his brother’s. 

“I hate to be so blunt,” he began, “but I believe you know the reason you have been asked to speak with me?”

She nodded. “Yes, lord.” 

“In that case, I hope you will forgive my getting straight to the point, but what are your reasons for wanting to – to take the role offered to you?” The word ‘mistress’ still felt strange and demeaning on his tongue, despite the high status that traditionally came with it. 

“It is simple enough.” She spoke clearly and looked him in the face. “I wish to do my duty to Erebor and its people, if I can. Though I was not born here, as I believe you were not also, I had been raised hearing of it and its splendour, and wished very much to see it as such once more. Even greater than the story of our losing our great city is the tale of its retaking, and the brave company that did so.” She gave him another smile, not simpering and coy, but sincere. “I would be a part of keeping this realm great, if I can.”

“A wise answer, and from the heart. My uncle would approve.” He meant it kindly.

“And it must be said, lord, that you are a fine king. You have led our people well both in battle and in peace, as your uncle did before you. It would set my heart at rest to know your blood would remain on the throne.” He couldn’t help but wonder if she had rehearsed such pretty answers. “And...” she hesitated and looked to her lap, smoothing creases from her skirts, “You are handsome, lord. I will not pretend otherwise for the sake of seeming virtuous.”

“I – thank you.” He smiled to let her know she had not spoken out of turn. And in truth, he appreciated her boldness. It seemed she spoke the truth without being overbearing, unlike the woman previous to her. He owed her the same in return. “And you realise that this is not a promise of love. I – I cannot give you that. My words must seem hard after your generous ones.”

“No, my lord. You have your one already. It would be folly indeed to seek to take his place.”

“Very good. In that case, I think that is all there is to say for now. You may go.”

She rose, and bowed her head. “I hope to speak with you again soon, my lord.” With a quick smile back at him, she left the chamber. 

Fili leant back heavily in his chair. It had been a day he’d sooner forget, in all honesty. He had never lain with a woman; he had never really given the notion much thought. There being so few, it was common for men to favour other men over ladies. And then there was Kili. Many of his thoughts on courtship and love had strayed towards his brother, though he may have been too young to fully understand at the time. He and Kili had talked of women, of course they had, but never in seriousness, and never beyond the rough talk of taverns. As a result, he had very little idea of what he was even looking for in the potential mother of his child.

“My child...” the words felt foreign on his tongue. Though was not the time to baulk: he could not bear another day of pondering and indecision. He supposed the best thing to do would be to go with his gut reaction, and the woman in whose company he had felt most comfortable. That being the case, it was no contest – the last dwarf woman he had seen was the only one he hadn’t had to force his smile upon, or pretend he didn’t want to flee the room. She had been pretty as well, he supposed, and he was going to need all the help he could get when the time came. 

That was that then. He had chosen. 

~*~

“Fili.” The voice was quiet; he barely heard it over the door clicking shut. He turned, in time to see his brother step forward from the shadow of the wall, arms folded and a grim expression on his face.

“Kili.” He noted his brother’s poor mood and frowned. “Are you alright? What are you doing up here?”

The younger raised an eyebrow, as if to suggest the stupidity of his brother’s questions. “I came up here, to _our room_ , to find you. The master of arms was hoping you would inspect the new guardsmen, now he’s done with them. You weren’t there.” The large gap between them in the corridor felt wrong. “I saw a woman leaving that room we never use.” He nodded to the door Fili had just closed. “And a few minutes later, another arrived. And you were the one to let her in.” His glare disappeared, and he looked like a child who knows something bad has happened but does not yet know what. “What’s going on, Fili?” 

He didn’t say anything. What could he possibly say, to make this better? The moment he had tried so hard to avoid was upon him. The real betrayal was a thousand times worse than meeting the women in secret – the real betrayal had begun the moment he started making excuses not to tell Kili. Something he had no way to back out of now.

“Kili, my dear one –“

“Don’t.” Kili snapped. “Don’t coat your words with honey and niceties, brother. Just tell me.”

“As you wish.” Everything rested on what he said next. It was the only chance he was going to get to salvage something from the destruction he’d wrought by keeping it from Kili so long. “It was decided by the council that I should father an heir of my own blood, our blood, to take the throne after me, as it is clear neither of us will have a child otherwise. That is –“

“That is why you were meeting those women?” Kili interrupted him. “You are seeking one to take to your bed? A ram wishing to mount only the best ewe.” The disgust on his face was clear, though Fili was not yet sure which part of the sorry situation it lay mostly with.

“You said you desired me to speak plainly, so yes, that is why. I have no choice, please see that. It is for the good of Erebor, brother.” Even to his own ears the words sounded weak. “The benefit of our race’s security –“

“Yes, I’m sure it benefits our race greatly for you take some whore into _our_ bed,” Kili snarled.

“Kili, please.” They were known to be just as fierce in their bickering as their love, but this was one argument he was not content for all of Erebor to hear. 

“No! It’s not enough that you would lie to me, who you call dear one, and betray me by lying with another. But you treat her just as poorly. I would not have believed it of you – that you would take some poor woman and have her carry your child, all for the security of your own rule. It is cruel to her, and it is cruel to me. If there was one thing I never thought you could be brother, it was cruel.”   
There were few times in their lives Kili had looked on his elder brother with such disappointment – the last time Fili was able to recall was many years ago: the first time Kili had kissed him, and Fili had told him it could not be so. It was a time neither liked to dwell on, though the look on Kili’s face now surpassed that one by far. 

“Please listen to me.” Fili slowly reached to place his hand on Kili’s shoulder, but he jerked sharply away from him. 

“Do not seek to comfort me like a child,” Kili spat.

“It is not my aim to. I am trying to explain this to you. Will you not grant me the kindness of listening to what I have to say?” 

“I am humiliated, brother! Humiliated that every dwarf under this mountain knows of this plot but me. You knew when those women approached our table what they sought. Their whole families would have known, and probably encouraged their daughters, their sisters, into the king’s bed. The entire population of Erebor knew you planned to take one who is not me into our bed, except for the very one to whom it would matter the most. Did this not cross your mind, oh wise king under the mountain? Or was it simply not an important enough matter for you to speak to your ‘barren queen’ of?” His anger ran freely now, and his last words dripped with bitterness. “I know what they say. They think I am not good enough. They do not question my ability as an advisor, a warrior, or brother to you. But I know they think that’s all I should remain, and not warm you bed in sacred bond also.” The words ‘I am not good enough’ were not said, but Fili knew they were at the forefront of his brother’s mind. 

“They do not seriously question your role in my life and rule, Kili. Nor is it their place to.” He again moved to place his hand on Kili’s shoulder. To his relief, this time he let him. “Thank you. First, I must say what I have wanted to say to you for what has felt like an age: I did not do this to hurt you. It has pained me more than you could guess that I have known I would have to betray you. I beg of you to see that I do this for our people and our home, and all that we may never have had if not for the journey we made with Thorin years ago.” He wanted to press their foreheads together to comfort them both with the familiarity, but guessed that would be too much for now. “I love you, my dear one. I know you know this, and I know there are few things I can say right now to soothe your hurt. And I – I will not do this if it would mean my hurting you beyond repair.” It seemed so simple when he put it like that. 

“I know this well enough,” Kili spoke quietly, tense under Fili’s hand, “though I’m not sure if I can accept it yet. But it is not only my hurt feelings that concern me brother. I am not so vain nor so soft as that. What of the woman? You would use her as nothing but a vessel to be filled, then cast her aside? I would not think you capable of such mistreatment.”

Fili felt a sad smile tug at his mouth. “You know me well, I would indeed not do such a thing.” He tried to keep the hurt that Kili thought he could hidden. “It is known all through Middle-earth with whom I share my bond.” He allowed his other hand to briefly brush Kili’s cheek. “And no dwarf woman would expect me to break it for them – they would not expect a deep love from me, as they know I would not be able to offer it. As for the technicalities, after we – after it is done, she will have an official royal title, and all that comes with it. She will be respected, and well cared for.” It warmed his heart his little brother was not only thinking of himself in this, though he had every right to. He frowned, and thought back to some of the women he’d spoken with earlier. “Some of them have guessed only too well at the benefits they would receive.”

He looked to his brother, and for a moment expected the broad grin he’d come to treasure as much as all the gold and gems of Erebor. Instead Kili merely looked troubled, and gave a brief squeeze to his brother’s hand before brushing it from his shoulder. “It was perhaps hasty of me to suspect you could be so inconsiderate of the woman. I’ve known your kindness all my life. And stupid of me to think a dwarf woman would allow herself to be treated in such a manner. You – you said you would not go through with this if it would damage what we have beyond help. I cannot yet tell you if it will or not. You have lied to me brother, and I cannot forget it swiftly. You will let me think on it, before you act any further?”

“Of course. I owe you that much.”

“Yes. You do.”

“Very well. Would you – should I perhaps sleep somewhere else tonight?” It pained him to ask it; they had not spent the entire night apart for a decade. 

Kili laughed, and Fili had never been happier to hear it. “No. It would do us no good for it to seem you are in disgrace.” His mirth was gone as quick as it came. “But perhaps I will spend the night elsewhere. You have given me much to think about.”

Fili found this far from comforting, but the immense relief that Kili finally knew, and that he hadn’t condemned him completely, would be enough for now. He pressed a quick kiss to the inside of Kili’s wrist. “Thank you, my dear one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when you kind of lose track of the point you're trying to make and everything gets a bit all over the place? Yeah, I feel like that's happened a bit with this fic. I hope it's still making sense...
> 
> Also, you know those days when you just want to be ravished by Thorin? Today is one of those days ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A swift Kili interlude. A bit shorter than normal, but enjoy :)  
> I planned to get this up earlier, but I was watching TV programmes about cakes and I got distracted. I was also meant to read it through again and didn't, so if there's any glaring mistakes...

“Morning, lad.” There were few Kili would permit to call him that these days – he was willing to admit he’d grown a little proud with age and status, and the term that would have once seemed endearing could now feel patronising to him, if said by the wrong dwarf.

“Good morning, Bofur.” He offered a tight smile to the older dwarf where he sat whittling, pile of shavings on the polished floor about his feet.

“Sit down a while, if you’ve the time.” The smile Bofur gave in return was wide and easy, as it always had been, though perhaps more lined than when he first knew him. His hands barely paused in their work as Kili sat; still quick and clever. He was thankful time had been kind to some of his friends of old – he didn’t think he could bear it if it was as harsh to all as it had been to Thorin.  
“If that black look on your face is anything to go by, I’d say your brother’s finally grown the balls to tell you what he’s up to.”

Rage flared up in Kili for a moment; both at the good-humoured jab at his brother and the reminder of what he’d done. But it swiftly fell away, leaving him feeling weary and defeated, and not much else. “Did everybody know, Bofur?” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Was I the only one to be kept in the dark?” 

“There now,” Bofur’s hands did pause in their work this time: Kili felt one resting firm on his shoulder. “Of course not. Some fool in the council told his family, in the hopes of getting his daughter the place of honour, and more power for himself I’d wager. It spread among those well-to-do folks like dragon-fire, all eager to increase riches and status. But not far, mind. The more that knew of your brother’s intent, the less chance each maid would have at being chosen.” He spoke more gently. “Not many knew lad, in the grand scheme of things. I only know because Ori told me. He was worrying after you both. Any other time, I would have told him to mind his own business, and leave you two be. But this time... this time I thought you might want a hand.”

“Or a kind ear.” The humiliation was still there, but the sting eased with the words of his old friend. “Thank you, Bofur,” his smile was a little more genuine now. “Though so far it’s only really my pride that’s been hurt, and by the way my brother dealt with it rather than anything he’s done. How I would manage the act itself, I don’t know. I do not think I could let another take my place.”

“You know no one could take your place lad, not truly.”

“Perhaps, but the thought of another in his – our – bed, his hands on them and words meant only for my ears...It is intolerable. He is mine.” His fists were clenched tight in his lap, and he was very aware of the sword at his side. “I am his.”

“That’s more than understandable. There’s not one dwarf in Erebor who could judge you harshly for feeling as such.” There was a sharp edge of possessiveness to any form of love a dwarf could feel; whether it be for a finely finished gem or for their one. They were of the stone and the earth – their bodies and sentiments made to endure. “If you cannot do this for him –“

“But it’s _not_ for him though, is it?” Kili snapped, irritated again. “It’s for Erebor. Our people. The line of Durin, and the seven fathers.” He found it hard to keep the mockery from his voice.

“True.” Bofur had removed his hand at Kili’s outburst, and returned to his whittling. “On paper, it’s for the people. But like it or not, your brother is a king. Officially they serve him, but in reality, he serves them. By doing this for the people, you _are_ doing it for him. If you knew you were doing this for Fili, and not for his subjects, would it ease your mind?”

Kili was about to snap again, but his anger withered away as quick as it had come. “Aye. For him, anything.”

“Then I think you have your answer.”

~*~

Not long after, Kili went in search of his brother. He didn’t like what he was about to do; every fragment of him was screaming in protest, but there was no other way. No matter how he complained, he loved his home, his people, and above all Fili. He would rather not risk hurt to any of them. Looking back over the last few days, he was able to recall moments when his brother’s face was heavy with sorrow, and he did not wish to be the one putting it there. He knew he could not always be the jealous child, as much as it appealed to him, and keep his brother to himself forever. It went against his very nature as a dwarf, but he was sure greater sacrifices must have been made, in the great stories of old. There was little to be gained by being so covetous, though the fact that he knew this made the task before him no easier. The sensible part of him recognised how horrifying the situation must be for Fili, if he truly felt he was betraying his brother, and if Kili could lessen his dear one’s guilt, he would.   
He eventually found him near the great dining hall, and heading further up towards the main gate of the city. 

“Fili.”

The dwarf in question stopped mid-stride and turned to face him, expression lurching from startled to a strained smile. It was rare Kili could catch his brother off guard, as he had grown talented in picking up the younger’s movements and breaths without seeing, after many years of teasing and half-serious games in their youth.

“Kili.” The false smile was still there. Kili knew it to be his brother’s diplomatic smile – it would seem easy and casual if not for the straining tendons in his neck and the set of his jaw.

The silence pulled taught between them, until Kili realised how sick he was of words unsaid and decisions unmade, and broke it. “If it is consent from me you seek, then you have it.” The shorter this conversation, the better.

Fili gaped at him, and Kili would have laughed at all the times he’d caught him out this week, if the reasons behind it weren’t so detestable. “You would permit me to take another?”

He flinched at the choice of words. “In starkest terms, yes, though I’d rather you didn’t phrase it as such.”

“Sorry.” Fili moved closer to him, hesitating for a long moment before pulling him into a hug. “Thank you,” he murmured low in Kili’s ear. “You cannot know how these words lighten my heart. Or what your level of devotion will mean to our people.”

Kili twitched within the embrace, not returning it. “Surely you know I only do this to lessen _your_ suffering. All the dwarves in Erebor would be of little consequence to me if you were not here to rule them.” He thought of his uncle, and the comfort Bofur had given him that morning. “With the odd exception.”

Fili moved back slightly to rest his forehead against Kili’s. “As your king, it should displease me to hear you say that.” He kissed him, quick and soft. “But as your brother, and one with whom you share the sacred bond, nothing could please me more than to hear that you place me above an entire kingdom.”

Kili allowed a small smile to play on his lips, and prayed his brother wouldn’t notice the sadness behind it. He pulled gently away, and grasped his brother’s shoulder. “Go. I have said all that can be said for now, and I know you have much to think on. I would rather put this behind us sooner than later.”

Fili nodded, some of the former tension eased from his face. Decision made, he looked once more the golden king or Erebor, and no longer his guilt-ridden and tired older brother. “Will I see you later?”

“Yes.” Kili wasn’t entirely sure if he would be able to join Fili in bed that night, but complying for now would ease both their minds.  
One more long, warm look in his direction, and Fili marched off down the hall, probably towards the council chambers.

Without sparing a thought for his end location, Kili turned and walked in the opposite direction down the highly polished corridor. That was all he saw for a while; dark, glittering walls and the odd glow of lamplight, black pillars set with intricate knots of gold in their surface – patterns and inscriptions we knew well enough to trace again from memory.   
For these were the halls of his fathers, and he had always been taught the importance of keeping tradition and heritage alive, especially when these halls had not been theirs to walk. The years of his and Fili’s youth spent in Ered Luin were full of charts and maps and family trees; of tales and songs of old, heirlooms, famed weapons, battles of myth and memory, forever looking to the past as a means to secure the future. In light of his present familial situation, nay disaster, this all seemed ridiculous. What use were the ideals of the past if they made the present miserable? Many had seen the retaking of Erebor as a sign to start things afresh, as well as a continuation of their proud past. In some ways this had come to pass – the dwarves of Erebor were once more the mighty people under the mountain, prosperous and free in their rightful home. But the old ways still lingered in their hearts, rusty and ineffective, that Kili longed to see cut free. For example, he still received the odd raised eyebrow for his choice of the bow as his weapon, despite proving himself countless times, as if a dwarf’s worth rested with the size of his axe.   
And now these antiquated ideas of heirs and bloodlines had turned bitter to him where they once seemed full of glory, causing trouble he could never have dreamt of when he was small... As great as the love her bore for his family, and the pride he took in his heritage, things needed to change. He was linked to the king by blood and as his spouse, surely that meant the power of change rested with them?  
If blood and bonds were so important, then why weren’t those shared between him and Fili good enough?

~*~

He had not realised where he was walking until he got there. His mother’s rooms. They were larger than most quarters under the mountain: she had grown used to houses fashioned after the tastes of men during their exile, and this was reflected in how she lived. Her rooms were made up of a bedroom, washroom, living area, small kitchen, a workroom, and a spare bedroom. The last she always claimed was in case she had an unexpected visitor, but her sons suspected the bed was kept made for them, on the off chance one of them came home to her. But they were deep within the mountain; the years she had spent above ground could not overshadow her love for the still air of the depths of Erebor.   
The layout being familiar, he wove through his mother’s furniture and relics from his childhood without a second thought, hand brushing over worn wooden surfaces and carefully polished metal ornaments. He hadn’t bothered knocking, so he caught his mother by surprise when he pushed open the door to her workroom.

“Kili!” She dropped the ring she was busy setting a sapphire in, and removed the magnifying glass from her eye. She smiled warmly and bustled to her feet, pulling him into a hug. When he didn’t move to return her embrace, she backed away in concern. “Kili? What on earth is the matter?” She studied the look on his face – her usually cheerful son looked drawn and tired, and older than she’d ever seen.  
He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat closed around the words and his jaw tightened. He was going to cry. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shed tears, and now he was going to do so in front of his poor mother. A tear fell down his cheek and caught in his beard.

“Oh, my boy.” She grabbed him and gathered him close to her chest, like she had when he was a child. “My dear, dear boy.”

No more words passed between them. She held her youngest son in silence until his tears stopped, and he clutched at her for a long while afterwards. She longed to tell him she was sorry for the part she had played in his misery, but knew her son well enough to know he wouldn’t want her apology, no matter how heartfelt it was. She was silent for him. He longed to shout; to shout at Fili for what he had done to him, to shout at his mother for her encouraging it, and to shout at Mahal for letting it happen. But he was silent. He was silent for Fili.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind the relationship tag of Fili/OC before you read this chapter...
> 
> Sorry it's so short. It was a whole lot longer, but I decided to split one chapter into two so I could get this up tonight. Reading other people's stuff has distracted me from writing my own haa.

It was not long after supper when Fili requested Miss Silverbrand be called to his quarters, as the waiting was becoming unbearable. He tried not to think hard on Kili as he paced, but that was something he rarely managed to achieve, even on a good day, and now was no different.  
Fili had noticed the sadness behind his brother’s brave face when he had told him to proceed as planned, of course he had, and guessed Kili was not nearly as comfortable with it as he would have him believe. But he had to take his word; the fact that his love was trying to please him, whether it be for him or the people, would have to be good enough for now. He would undoubtedly run into trouble with Kili over the matter later, but for now he longed to get it put behind him as swiftly as possible.  
He wondered where his brother was, what he was doing; as he had asked his council to ensure Kili was kept busy elsewhere that night. Obviously he was within the mountain somewhere, but that was no comfort. He had probably thrown himself into some task or another – drilling the unlucky guards on the night watch or taking stock of the armoury with Dwalin (apparently both took comfort in counting battle axes when they were troubled) – anything to keep his hands busy and his mind from Fili. 

He was starting to feel ridiculous – he was as nervous and twitchy as a love-struck fifty year old; far from the warm, composed demeanour he usually gave off so easily. He’d bathed earlier, and taken the trouble to re-braid his hair and beard, more conscious that night of the silver streaks beginning to show than ever. His clothes were rich but soft, all furs and wine-red cloth, embellished with gold threads. He had chosen everything with the same care he would have before meeting with Thranduil or the king of Dale for some diplomatic purpose of import.   
He felt a fool for planning things out so – the first time he and Kili had taken each other was impulsive and reckless, the night before the Battle of the Five Armies. They had been dancing around the lust they felt for each other for months, not helped by the tension and peril of their journey to Erebor. It had all come to a head that night, when they were more than aware it could be their last in Middle-earth. Not knowing the layout of the mountain, they had stumbled into a large room (which they now knew to be little more than a storage cupboard) piled with old furs and blankets that had been of little use to the dragon, and so remained where they had been left by the dwarves years before. It had been desperate and messy, and painful in every way imaginable: there were numerous bruises and bite marks, coupled with their inexperience, and tainted with the knowledge they may never have the chance to do it again. It had been far from perfect, but it was what they had needed. And the look in Kili’s eyes as he had moaned his big brother’s name...

There was a knock at his door; heavy gold knocker on polished stone.

“Come in,” his voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat and called again. 

~*~

He feared he would break her. Stupid really, she was just as stout and strong as any other dwarf, but it had been ingrained into his head by his mother that women were to be treated with a degree of delicacy. Neither did he think it would do either of them any good if he were to take her as rough as he would Kili. Changing the direction of his thoughts before memories of his dear one could cloud his mind, he rested his hand on her cheek, and drew them gently together into a kiss. He felt her sigh, tension slipping from her posture, and a hand moved to curl into his beard. She drew him closer so their bodies were aligned, and surprised as he was by her subtle show of dominance, he was relieved he wouldn’t have to initiate things. It was easy to lose himself in the feeling of their mouths working together; the unspoken agreement of whose tongues moved where, and the angle at which their lips met. No teeth clacking, no biting. Just a gentle click of beads and their breathing. He ran his hands down her sides until they came to rest on her waist; the smooth roundness of her hips where there would usually be none catching him off guard. He felt the flat of her hand pressed firm against his back as she broke the kiss.

“Lord,” she spoke quietly against his lips, “shall I undress?”

Unable to answer, he nodded and released her from his grasp, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides now they were empty. She eased him backwards until he was seated on the bed, before carefully starting to unpick the lacings of her dress. The only hint of embarrassment about her was the faint flush of pink across her cheeks, but her eyes met his steady and sure. Fili’s attention flicked to her bodice, where deft fingers plucked laces easily from their knots. A slow arousal began to build within him as he watched her unlacing herself, threatened to be squashed by the constant niggling guilt in the back of his mind. Dress undone, she pushed it from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor in a rustle of rich blue fabric. Left only in her shift, she paced towards him, her eyes betraying her nerves though her movements were sure. She paused just before him.

“May I undress you, Lord?”

“Yes,” he said faintly, and she gave him a soft smile before setting to work on his buckles and buttons, fingers now deliberate and careful. Her skilled touch left him wondering what her craft was – was she gifted with stone setting, like his mother, or engraving? Perhaps even a seamstress. He wanted to ask, but this was hardly the moment for it. Leaving him in his trousers and undershirt, she moved to straddle his lap, one thigh on each side of his legs. He could feel her weight across him as the skirt of her shift rose up, and it was difficult not to take comfort from her closeness. She took hold of the hem of his shirt, and gently pulled it off over his head. As she lifted her arms to remove it fully, he was suddenly very aware of her full chest, nipples visible under the light fabric. He almost looked away out of respect, but caught himself in time, inwardly cursing at his behaving like a naive virgin. He was, in a way. He had not lain with a woman; only Kili.   
Only ever Kili.  
A similar thought must have crossed her mind, as she hesitated and looked up from where she was brushing soft kisses along his collarbone. 

“Lord?” she looked up at him, uncertain but determined. “Please forgive my asking, but have you done this before?” She flushed deeper, and hurried to rephrase her question. “I mean to say, I know you and your one have been bonded for a long time – “

“No.” He cut across smoothly, slightly embarrassed to admit it to her but glad she had brought it up nonetheless. “I have only ever lain with my dear one.” He had not thought taking another into his bed would involve so much discussion of Kili; it was both a comfort and a distraction. “Women’s bodies are... unfamiliar to me, in this respect.”

She nodded, and offered him that small, sweet smile again. “Very good, Lord.” She leant forward to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for telling me.” She dipped her fingers shyly under the waistband of his trousers, catching him by surprise; it seemed with his confession he had given unspoken consent for her to take the lead. His pride suffered for it, but it was somewhat of a relief.  
As quick as they’d come, her fingers withdrew from his clothing and she moved behind him, her breasts pressing firm against his back as her hands wandered over his chest. She swept his thick hair aside so she could kiss the back of his neck. Unable to resist the teasing, Fili turned to face her, pulling her close for a kiss as he eased her down so she was lying on her back.   
She had not removed her jewellery along with her dress; a twisted chain of silver set with sapphires gleamed at her throat, dipping slightly between her breasts. Matching gems glittered at her ears, and he felt compelled to run his fingers over them. She noticed his distraction, and hummed with pleasure. “I made them myself.”

“They are most beautiful. You are a jeweller, then?”

“Yes.” 

“I guessed as such. You have fine hands and clever fingers.”

She laughed at that, soft and light. “Thank you, Lord. I’m glad they are to your liking.” Her smile turned darker. “Allow me to show you their talents further.”  
She pushed him back until they were both sitting once again, her kneeling between his thighs as she pressed her hand firmly to touch his increasing hardness through his clothes. He bit back a moan, and she pressed fluttering kisses down his neck as her nimble fingers pulled open the laces on his trousers. She released his cock, and ran her fingers along it in light, teasing touches until he grew frustrated and pulled her into a rough kiss; one hand grasping the back of her neck and the other at her waist as she began to stroke harder. His mind was free from concern, too full with the sensation of pleasure; touching and tasting and the need for more. 

Neither of them noticed the door swing open, or indeed the dwarf that walked through it until he realised what he had walked in on, and let out a choked gasp at the sight.

Fili jolted his mouth away from hers in surprise, nearly biting her lip in the process, mortified that some fool had breezed into his chambers without so much as a knock. But words of anger died in his throat when he saw who it was.

“...Kili.”

~*~

Kili had only ever experienced this sensation before in the midst of battle, when he feared Fili was about to be hurt. A moment when time seemed to pause and stretch, his body feeling it was no longer his own as his limbs refused to move. But, as it always did, the tension snapped the moment Kili met his brother’s eyes and realised he was unharmed.

“...Kili.” 

“I’m sorry.” He snapped his gaze away from their flushed, entangled bodies and turned to flee the room. “I didn’t realise you’d be in here.” He swung the chamber door shut behind him, not looking back, not wishing to see his love with another in such a manner. His shock and jealousy began to give way as he stalked down the corridor, growing to rage that made his hands shake where they were balled at his sides. It was their room! Why on earth would Fili take the woman to the room they shared? Did the thought not enter his thick head that Kili might enter the room that was his just as much as Fili’s? That they had shared for near four decades. There were dozens of unused chambers still under the mountain, many fine enough for the king to take his whore. Was he really so stupid as to not think of that? To top it all, no one had thought to tell him what his brother was doing that evening; not even Fili had bothered to request he keep his distance.

He thought he had made his peace with what Fili was doing, as least for the moment, and was willing to bite his tongue and wait it out. But coming face to face with it was something else entirely. At least if it was something that took place behind closed doors, he could pretend it hadn’t happened at all. But after having witnessed it...   
Needless to say, it hurt. They had only ever had each other as a constant in their lives, being forced away from various homes, and from their mother or Thorin at times when needs must. The one thing they could always count upon was the other, through all the uncertainty. And to see Fili so close to another, the level of intimacy between them where before there had only been Kili, was more painful than he ever would have guessed.   
His rage grew into a pulsing surge of hate; hating the implication he had deprived his brother of a proper family. Hate that his brother was using some poor girl, and hate that she was willing to be used. He hated that she needed to be used in the first place – there was too much weight in the old ways, the burden of keeping the traditions alive where it was best they were broken. He hated that he and Fili could not be left alone to love each other in peace, as they always had done. He wouldn’t be the first king without an heir, something which everybody else seemed to ignore.  
He came to one of the few windows cut into the rock high in the side of the mountain. He pressed his face to it, sucking in deep draughts of the cold night air, for the moment sick of the ancient stillness under the ground, and the outdated customs that clung to it. He closed his eyes, and tried to let the wind on his face blow away all other feeling, and the image of the only one he’d ever loved so immersed in another. It did not happen so easily as he’d hoped. He wasn’t expecting it to.

“Kili.”

The whisper of his name some distance behind him pulled him from his self-inflicted numbness, echoing in the empty stone of the corridor. He turned away from the window to see Fili standing awkwardly in his trousers and undershirt, the lack of boots on his feet explaining why Kili hadn’t heard him approach.

“What?”


	7. Chapter 7

When at last Kili’s sharp gaze met his own, Fili could think of nothing to say. He braced himself for a shouting match of epic proportions; they argued infrequently but when they did they were fierce and bitter. When they were younger, people had told them they’d grow out of it, but if anything it had worsened with age – they fought less often but with more intensity. Their quarrels were also usually over quickly – a flaring of rage and venting frustrations until they tired of hurting each other, and crawled into each other’s arms to reconcile. Fili wasn’t one to place blame where it was undeserved, but they both knew it was usually Kili who started a fight, and Kili who finished it. This time though, he knew the responsibility lay with him to resolve things.

“I – I’m sorry.” His quiet words sounded pathetic and hollow in the deserted corridor, and he hated it. They were nowhere near enough to soothe the sting he’d caused his brother.

Kili sighed, and slumped back against the wall beside the window. “Are you really, Fili? How noble of you.” The bite of sarcasm behind his words was half-hearted, but it made Fili wince all the same.

“Kili, please.”

“Please, what?” He didn’t even sound irritated, never mind furious. Just exhausted.

“I don’t know.” The weariness in his brother’s reply had thrown him even further off course. “Just... I need you to know: I did not want you to witness that. I would never – “

“You could have at least picked another room to bring your... to entertain in.” Despite his interruption, Kili again was quiet and unsure, so different from their customary battles of will. This scared Fili immensely. Never before had he seen Kili so broken up that he barely bothered to fight back, and there was no denying it was his fault this time. “In _our_ bed Fili. What were you thinking?”

It seemed ridiculous in hindsight, to have brought her there. The only reason he could think of for taking her to their room was because it held traces of Kili, and on a subconscious level the little things – a pair of boots in the corner, bit of arrow fletching on the desk, his smell on the sheets – brought him comfort in a situation where he was far less than confident. But to Kili, he belatedly realised, it could only be a betrayal, a suggestion he was being replaced; that he had brought someone else to a place that was only theirs, and shared what was not his to share. “I – I felt I could keep some connection to you, if I took her to our bed, I think.”

“You ‘think?’” Kili snorted, clearly not convinced, but satisfied enough not to push it further for now. “If you say so. But did you not think to tell me? If I had known –” 

“I told the council to let you know my plans. Clearly the message went astray.” His council had let him down several times over in this matter. Perhaps it was time for a change in that respect; those who were not loyal would only prove a danger later on. “But that is not what matters. It – it was cowardly of me. I should have faced you myself.”

“Yes, you should have.”

The silence that had appeared between them frequently of late grew again, as Fili struggled to find something to say that didn’t sound rehearsed and impersonal, or give away how close he was to falling apart. Kili just looked at him, first expectantly, then sadly when he was met only with silence. 

“Kili, I...” He brought his hand up to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck. He had grown quite skilled at speaking publically to his people, but openly discussing how he felt with Kili still made his tongue heavy and his words clumsy, even after forty years of practice. Dwarves loved fiercely, but it was something often put into actions and gestures rather than words. “I know I have done much to cause you hurt of late. Far more than you could ever deserve. But please, I need you to speak to me. I need you to tell me what it is that hurts you most, so that I can make amends. I have made so many mistakes. And I cannot put then right without your guidance.”

“A pretty speech, brother.” Kili’s lip curled back in a snarl, and for a moment Fili worried it would turn into an all-out battle after all, and Kili would push him away to leave them both stew in hurt and self-pity. “It was the sight of you,” he spat. “Her hands on you. I had made my peace with what you had chosen, at least for the moment.” The flash of anger in his little brother’s eyes dissolved, and they became dull and tired again, and he looked to the floor. “But seeing you with another, right before my eyes, broke any resolve I may have had. I realised then I could not live with it.” 

“And I would not force you to. I cannot live seeing you so broken, and knowing I am the cause. Please, come here.”   
Kili stared at him in silence, like an animal unsure if it’s going to be fed or shot at. Then abruptly, he made his decision, and walked heavily to meet Fili, leaning into him with all his weight and resting his head on the elder’s shoulder. Not sure what else he could do, Fili gently put his arms around him, both in comfort and to keep him upright.  
“I am yours.” Barely a whisper left Fili’s lips.

“I know. And I yours.” Kili’s words were mumbled into his shoulder as he brought his hands up to clutch at his brother as he had not done for years. “I cannot push you away, Fili. I know that I should. I know I should be furious, roaring and clamouring to cause you hurt. But I can’t. You’ve drawn yourself so far away from me with this whole sorry business that I feel I have seen what it would be like to lose you altogether. I do not think I could face that.”

Fili was shocked to hear Kili being so sincere; it was rare for him to reach out and say what he meant when it came to their relationship, just as it was with Fili. He found it easy enough to kiss and touch and tease in light-hearted moments, but as soon as things got serious he would withdraw, and become angry and distant. And that he could possibly take any blame for this mess himself was ludicrous. “You will never lose me.”

“I sincerely hope not.” Kili offered him a small smile, coming back to life as the misery of the past few days began to ease a little. “And you will never lose me, no matter how many foolish things you might do. I cannot be angry with you forever, you bastard. But neither will the sight of you with another quickly fade.” Fili winced at the mention of Miss Silverbrand. “I cannot let you be with someone other than me, and I should have known it from the start. _You_ should have known it. It was a foolish endeavour to begin with, to attempt to let you have another where there should be only me.” A slight growl crept into Kili’s voice with his last words, his fingers curling a little tighter into Fili’s shirt.

“So that is that then.” Fili pulled the younger closer to him, if it were possible.

Kili raised an eyebrow. “What is what?”

“I said to you I would not do this if it caused us damage beyond repair. If it were to cost me you, which I fear it might. Therefore, I will not do it.” It seemed a simple decision now the time had come to face it, painfully so, given the damage it had wrought. 

Kili looked at him for a moment as though he wanted to laugh, before his expression changed abruptly and his mouth set in a grim line. “I will not pretend your decision doesn’t please me. That you would make this choice for me, for us, brings me relief beyond words, despite you taking such a long time about it.”

“The why so grim?” Fili asked though he could already guess the answer.

“Your people.”

“Our people, Kili.” He threaded his fingers through the ends of his brother’s hair and held on tight. He would braid it later, if he would permit him to. “You seem to forget they love and obey you just as much as me.” This was a matter Kili was forever sceptical about. 

“Yes. Formalities aside, I cannot imagine they will be so pleased with your decision as I am. You may lose some of their favour. I believe I am right in saying that was one of the main reasons you chose to do this in the first place; for fear of displeasing them.”

“In that I fear you’re probably right. But they will not question my right as king, and I can only pray they won’t forget our past successes in a hurry. Besides, what have I to live for if not you?” He pressed a quick kiss to Kili temple. “Worse things have happened in times of war and of peace than a king without an heir of his own blood. Most likely I will lose some support, but... I’d rather that than lose you.”

“You turn sentimental with age, brother.” Kili smirked at him.

Fili laughed, fuller and deeper than he had for weeks. “You are a fine one to talk. I’ve never seen you gush so.”

Kili drew back to punch his brother firmly on the shoulder, something he had definitely improved at with age and practice. “Do not think yourself free from my wrath so easily. You have yet to earn my full forgiveness for this mess.” There was laughter in his eyes, but Fili knew a great part of him spoke truthfully. It would take more time than that to heal the welts Fili had raised in their relationship, and a lot more than a simple apology. Indeed, it would take time for him to forgive himself. 

“Very well. Can I at least count on you to stand by me as I break this news to the people?”

“Of course you fool. I would not leave you to endure the grudges of mothers who had hoped to earn their daughters a royal title alone.” His smile faded, and his attention flicked to Fili’s lips before catching them in a brief kiss. “I stand by you in everything.”

They stood for a long time in the empty hallway, arms around each other and feeling the rise and fall of their breathing. He felt they could almost be a part of the stone, they stood so long. Fili began to fear his brother had fallen asleep standing up. It wouldn’t be the strangest place it had happened.   
A thought had been taking shape in his mind as they stood breathing in the air under their ancient home, though where it had come from Fili couldn’t say. Just a dusty half-memory that had grown and grown, and become more solid. It had grown to the point that he felt he could share this newfound hope with his dear one. If things went as he hoped, he had maybe found a way to subdue the backlash that was sure to follow. Others had done it before, though not for many years. So just maybe...

“Kili?” 

“Mmm?” 

He rested his forehead against his brother’s. “You say you would stand by me in everything, and I believe you. Does this mean you would not dispute my choice for next in line to the throne of Erebor?”

“What?” Kili drew back, confused. “Who would you choose?”

“If you significantly outlive me – do not look at me like that, there is a very real possibility it could happen – then it would obviously be you.”

“Alright.”

“But I hope very much fate will be kind enough not to leave one of us lingering in this world while the other passes, so I must prepare for the time when we both are no longer here. It is one duty I will not see left undone. And now I – we – have made the decision for it not to be an heir of my own blood take the throne, we must consider who the honour will be left to.”

Apparently these words made nothing clearer to Kili. “Will it not be one of Dain’s sons? Surely they are the closest relations we have.”

“Correct little brother.” He smiled and fought the urge to ruffle Kili’s hair as he would have done when they were young; Kili may have punched him for it now. “But no. According to tradition, I think there may be another way. I hope to Mahal I am right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read this through so many times that I don't even know if it makes sense any more. Let's hope so :/ God, arguments are hard.


	8. Chapter 8

“Frerin! Come back here you little demon.” Kili scooped up the dwarfling as he ran into Fili’s study. Fili rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead, incomplete trade agreement in front of him combining with their son’s laughter to bring on a headache. They were frequent these days, but he endured as best he could. 

“I swear to Mahal, if you don’t both be quiet...” the muttered threat remained unfinished as he looked up to see his dear one pressing little kisses over the boy’s face as he laughed and wriggled in protest. The two of them were there to soothe his headaches as often as they were the cause. 

“What was that?” Kili held the child close and walked over, gently tipping him into Fili’s lap where he immediately began tugging at the intricate braids of the king’s beard, slowly becoming more silver than gold. The boy had always been fascinated with them, though he was too young yet for a beard of his own. “Ugh,” Kili picked up the thick parchment outlining the amendments concerning trade with Dale and Laketown. “This looks tragically dull, brother. Finish it later.”

“Dull it may be, but it cannot wait.” Fili tried and failed to pry his son’s little fingers from his hair. A dwarf child’s grasp was not something to be underestimated.

“It seems simple enough to me – we continue to give them what they want and chuck in a few barrels of ale and the odd pretty trinket of dwarven make, and they’re content enough.”

Fili was about to argue, but what Kili said was more or less on the mark; though they were not the exact words he would have used to phrase it. “Alright. Later.”

~*~

Fili had first recalled the old papers that very same day he had decided he could not go through with conceiving a child of his own, breathing the scent of Kili’s hair and hope growing steadily in his heart. He hadn’t explained to Kili right away, not wanting to get his hopes up in case he was mistaken; he could not bear to disappoint him again, not after this. Instead, he had dragged him down into the archives housing all the histories and documentations of their race. Deep in the black stone were shelves crammed full of gilt pages and bejewelled covers, fine scrolls and piles of seemingly insignificant papers. 

“Fili, why are we down here? It must be twenty years since I’ve had need to poke around these dusty shelves.” He frowned in distaste and ran his fingers along the spines of the books. “So why now?”

Fili had ignored him, much to Kili’s annoyance, and set to work. He had pulled half the contents of the room off the shelves in his haste to find what he was looking for, too impatient to work through the careful filing system (the keepers of the archives had been less than pleased with the mess he’d left in his wake.) Eventually, he had found them.

“Kili,” he called to his brother, who had wandered off amongst the maze of shelves, “come here. I’ve found them.” He set the thin collection of legal papers on the tabletop. He’d only given them a cursory glance, decades back, in a promise of duty to himself to go over every law of their people at least once. 

“Papers of adoption?” Kili had stood behind him, eyes scanning the curling paper. “Of what relevance are they?”

“Thank Mahal you have a pretty face, brother. Now listen, I don’t wish to go through this more than once.” Ignoring Kili’s snort of amusement, he had rapidly explained with shaking hands, spreading the documents across the table. Official certificates that stated a dwarven child had been accepted into a family other than their own, taking the name of their new parents and becoming a member of their family in every way possible. Legally, as well as emotionally. When a dwarven child was adopted, it was as though their past life had never existed at all; it was spoken of as if they had always belonged to the family that they were now a part of. It was watertight. Granted, there had been very few cases within the royal line – only three had been recorded in their entire history.  
Once Kili had realised what his brother was getting at, his face had grown bright with hope and he clasped Fili’s hand tightly. 

“What now?” Kili’s voice had been soft despite the firmness of his grip.

Fili had pressed a kiss to his temple. He had not seen his brother so full of expectation since the evening they had sat around the hobbit’s table, on the eve of their adventure’s beginning. “We find our child.”

They had summoned Balin at once to judge the validity of the documents, and to search for loopholes. If they could find a child to bring into their family, to take the name of Durin, then there would be an heir to the throne of Erebor legally and officially, without the need for conception. Their line would stay secure.

After several months of discreet searching, they had begun to realise how rare it was for a dwarf child to have no real and willing guardian. There were few children born of their race to begin with, and any orphans among those were often more than happily taken in by kind uncles, aunts and grandparents. Their hope was once again growing thin when they had found him.  
He was a boy of seven, the same age Kili had been when they had lost their own father. He was living with an old toymaker who had been a friend of his family. The boy’s mother had died years ago of sickness, and his father less than two years ago at the hands of goblins, when they had been making the journey from Ered Luin to Erebor with a small group eager to live once more under the mountain. The toymaker had been willing to bring up the boy, but he was old and losing his sight, and had many other concerns to occupy his mind. He had feared he would not be able to raise the boy as well as he deserved.  
A month later, the boy had been made the official heir of Durin. Fili had never been one to rush things, and this had been no different. The child had of course warmed to Kili immediately, and he had wanted to welcome him into their family after a matter of days. But Fili had not wanted to force him into a family he did not like, and insisted they spent a few weeks at least getting to know the boy, reading to him and playing with him, before they could even consider anything further. The brothers took him all around Erebor, to see the throne room and deep chambers where the jewel shapers polished amethyst and smoothed sapphires. To see the rivers of solid gold and silver streaming down the stone like water, glittering caves and tunnels lit with crystal lamps. The boy was enthralled by it all.  
When at last Fili was certain the dwarfling had grown to love them, and felt he was ready, he had given the word. The ceremony itself had been small, a signing of papers witnessed by their closest friends and the highest members of the council, to keep things official. And they had given the boy his new name, sealing him into their family permanently, secure as one of their own blood. They had chosen to name him Frerin, for their uncle, who had died at the gates of Moria. If Thorin had shed a tear at that, no one mentioned it. Dis was not quite so subtle, dabbing at her thick tears as she held her sons, and new grandson, close in a silent thank you.  
But dwarves had always been ones for ceremony and keeping things official when it came to titles and family, so Fili had of course been expected to formally introduce the new heir to the people. He had not bothered to conceal his pride as he looked to the small boy in Kili’s arms, suddenly shy when faced with the entire population of Erebor. His future subjects. 

“I know there are some among you who would wish me to father a son directly, to keep our blood strong in your halls. But hear me now: as of this day this child is my son, both on paper and in my heart. Frerin is the rightful heir to the throne of Erebor and shall be treated as such. He is a dwarf, and we are all Durin’s Folk after all. He will be raised with your king’s ideals and strengths, and those of his consort.” He spared Kili a brief smile. “He will carry on our legacy just as any son of our blood may have. Perhaps better. I believe he could, at least. So it is with gladness in my heart that I present to you the heir of Durin. Your future king and servant. The line is secure.”

Despite the legality and respect for tradition of the adoption of Frerin into the line of Durin, the council had been right to suspect not every dwarf in Erebor would approve of Fili’s actions. Some had gone as far as to leave Erebor altogether, and live in the Iron Hills under the sons of Dain, who they viewed as the rightful heirs. Some were more reluctant to take their disapproval so far as to desert their home and rightful king so quickly, preferring to mutter their distaste in their homes and in the halls. For the time being, there was little Fili and Kili could do but hope the discontent would pass, and they would come to accept the boy. Of course, there were also those who were more than happy at the news: most of the people were satisfied with the legalities, and glad to see the unrest come to an end with the arrival of the new heir. After all, the king was getting no younger. Their friends were glad to see the king and his love so content again, and eager to play their own part in the raising of the heir of Durin. The child would never be short of father figures. 

~*~

Fili looked up to see his brother smiling fondly at him. “What?”

“I never thought I’d see you with a child. Now that I have, I wonder how we’ve ever lived without him.” He ruffled Frerin’s hair from where he still sat on Fili’s lap. “Fatherhood suits you.”

Every so often, Kili still caught him completely off guard with sincere words of affection he wouldn’t dream him capable of. “Come here.” Kili did so, and bent to give Fili a kiss, just a press of lips, but long and sweet. Fili pulled back first, and rested their foreheads together; one hand on the back of Kili’s neck and one holding their son steady in his lap. “It suits you too, you soft-hearted wretch. Though I still wouldn’t leave the two of you alone for more than five minutes. You’d likely bring down the mountain.”

“I should hope not, after his parents and grandfather went through so much to get it back.”

Startled, the three of them looked to the doorway to see Thorin standing there, arms folded and a wry smile on his lips. The dwarfling in Fili’s lap began to wriggle in an attempt to get down, reaching out to the old king. 

“Stop your fussing, youngling.” But Fili smiled all the same as he set the boy on the floor and watched as he ran, stumbling, to where Thorin waited with open arms. Though technically he was the child’s great uncle, they had agreed between them that he should be called grandfather. Fili believed this made his uncle happier than he let on; some of his past vigour renewed since the child had some into their lives.

“And how’s my grandson today?” Thorin grunted as he hefted the boy into his arms. Fili shared a smile with his brother at the action; there was no doubt their uncle had regained some of his strength in the past few months, and it was no secret how he doted on the boy, though he remained quick to deny it.

“Happy!” The boy burbled back. He was just beginning to learn his words, much to his parents’ delight, though he always seemed more talkative when Thorin came to see him. They were nigh inseparable. 

“Is that so?” Thorin smiled at him as the dwarfling continued to wriggle with happiness. “I was thinking of taking him to see Lina. That alright with you two?” His voice had taken on its more usual gruffness when he spoke to his nephews again, still attempting to hide the softness the boy inspired in him. 

Fili felt his lip curl into a small smile. “Of course. She dotes on the boy.”

“And he can’t get enough of her.” Kili unceremoniously slumped onto Fili’s lap now their son had vacated it, eliciting a groan from his brother under his weight. They were far too old for this, really. He shoved back a little, but with no real feeling. “I don’t think he’d leave her home sometimes if we didn’t make him.”

Thorin nodded in vague acknowledgement, and turned back to Frerin. “What do you think? Shall we go and see Lina?”

“Yes!” The boy gasped in delight. “Yes. Sweets!”

Kili laughed. “I think we may have uncovered the reasoning behind his fondness for Miss Silverbrand.” The whole family had become firm friends with Lina Silverbrand, after Fili had apologised profusely for his rudeness that day, when he had abandoned her half-dressed in his bed and left in pursuit of Kili. And for the embarrassment and stress he knew he’d put her through. She had been nothing but kind about it, laughing it off and apologising herself for being the one to cause so much tension between them. Though it was not something they regularly discussed due to its awkward nature, they were more than grateful for her friendship now. And her willingness to watch their son when they needed to seek some respite. 

“It would seem so.” Barely concealing his own smile, Thorin turned to leave, his grandson tight in his arms. “What do you say to your parents?”

“Love you!” The child bellowed across the room, hands fisted tight in Thorin’s beard. At his words, Kili couldn’t resist jumping from Fili’s lap and rushing to his son, rubbing their noses together.

“We love you too,” Fili spoke as Kili moved off to let them walk away down the hall, “always.”

~*~

That night, their chambers were blessedly Frerin-free. Thorin and Balin had taken him up to one of the watch towers, to teach him the stars. He would never admit it out loud, but it was a relief for Fili not to have to watch his language, and to be able to run his hands over Kili as he wished.  
They lay in bed now, wrapped loosely around each other under layers of furs and rich blankets. Kili had never been one for fine furnishings, but Fili insisted upon a small touch of domesticity here and there. It comforted him.

“You know,” Kili began as he pressed a trail of wet kisses up Fili’s neck, “I do not think I’ve ever been so terrified.”

Fili didn’t answer at first, confused by the contrast of his brother’s words and actions. “What do you mean?”

“We have faced all manner of things together.” Kili put an end to his attention on Fili’s neck and looked instead to his face, running his fingers through the hair of his chest. “We have grown up together, through the joys and pains of childhood – “

Fili’s snort interrupted him, “Yes, we all remember those painful few years when your beard refused to grow in properly.”

Kili ignored him and continued. “We reclaimed Erebor side by side, and watched as our strong uncle grew weaker. Though now he seems much improved, thank Mahal. I stood by your side at your crowning, we stood together to seal our bond. We have faced battles of both blood and diplomacy, and risked death too many times to count.”

“Pretty words, dear one, but I still do not understand.”

Kili rolled his eyes at his brother’s slowness. “Never before have I felt such weight of responsibility as I do now. Not in all these years which we have been constantly reminded that we are the heirs of Durin, or the rulers of a kingdom, responsible for all the dwarves under the mountain. We are his life, Fili.” Oh. It was Frerin of whom Kili spoke. “What if we get it wrong?”

Fili laughed softly. “You are ridiculous.” He tightened his grip around Kili and rolled them over, so he now lay atop his brother. “We will not get it wrong.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of Kili’s nose, knowing full well how it irritated him. “Do you not see the love in his face when he looks to us, or to Thorin? How can we get something wrong that is plainly so right?”

“I suppose...”

“In all our years together Kili, I have been plagued with uncertainty. Most of it concerning you,” he smiled. “It comes as a relief to me, to feel such surety over something, as I do with our son. I would not need to be king, to feel so wealthy as I do when I look into your face each morning, and each night. And when I look at our boy. I am a rich man indeed, to have you both in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was the end. Sorry that took so long, I moved house and have no internet. I hate it. I hope it makes sense, I didn't get the chance to proofread all of it. But thanks for sticking with me and junk :)  
> I may write a prequel at some point, we'll see.


End file.
